An Interesting Development
by VivaNewVegas
Summary: Harry Potter, abused by his relatives, get's life started with some help from all around.  Takes place during first year, will make another story as Book 2.  Contains: Ron/Dumbledore Bashing, Dark Dumbledore Stupid Ron, Powerful Harry.  T for safe
1. Discovery

Ok, for those who don't know, my name is VivaNewVegas. I have recently begun delving into this particular fandom, so I decided a story would be a good introduction. Sadly, in my attempts to find many stories of great calibre, leaving out the m/m slash pairings, it has left the list somewhat short. To that End, I have decided to contribute. This story, as given by the pairing, is a Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass (HP/DG) story. I intend it to be a romance, and for now this will be a T rated adventure.

Now, this starts book one, I'll probably be devoting my FFN time to this project. Please, red and Enjoy the story, your reviews help make it better. Also, PM me if you're interested in BETA reading. It would help.

One with the story.

"STUPID! FILTHY! FREAK!" screamed the man, kicking the small bundle of rags down the stairs. It rolled down, thudding slightly as it hit the landing.

Vernon Dursly, patriarch of the Dursly home, waddled after the bundle of dirty rags, red in the face and sweating profusely. The reason he was so exasperated was because he had spent the last five minutes kicking and hitting the bundle of rags all across the upper floor of Number 4 Private Drive.

Much to the fat man's surprise, the small bundle struggled to rise to its feet, hoping to escape. His face darkened a few more shades of crimson before almost rolling down the stairs, placing his foot on the bundle.

In a hushed tone, Vernon issued his threat. "Listen you freak, next time I catch you walking past a window with the drapes open, I'll have another go with your arm," he whispered. The bundle of rags, while not having resisted before, stopped any motion.

Yes, it remembered the last time Vernon had a go at its arm. A memory of searing flesh, the open flame, laughter of a whale, a beach ball and a horse all echoed in its head.

Vernon pushed on the pile until he heard something snap dully, before nodding to himself.

Removing his foot, he spoke, slightly winded. "Freak, go to your cupboard. You'll be lucky if you eat before Monday." The child, now having multiple broken ribs, only dashed to the cupboard under the stairs, completely ignoring the pain they should have been feeling.

The door closed, followed by the slide of the lock on both the grate and door, concealing him in darkness. Quite sobs started.

The figure, Harry Potter, defeater of the dark lord Voldemort, Boy-Who-Lived, sobbed weakly. It was shocking that he didn't pass out right then and there, but the years had made him resilient to most forms of pain. Only the most extreme bouts of pain would he pass out.

Oddly, he could feel his bones bend gently into place, the pain slowly subsiding. He had never figured it out, why he could heal inside of hours. it would always start with the bones bending, followed by an icy chill that dulled the pain, followed by sleep. As he drifted to sleep, bones slowly reshaping to their desired position, he would always hope for that dream. That dream of a green flash, cool as ice on a hot day, followed by the feeling of flying.

* * *

><p>When he woke, he didn't need a watch to tell him the time. The small grill was open, revealing the wall mounted clock in the hallway, ticking away. Through the brass bars, he saw the hands of the clock.<p>

"7. 7:24," mumbled Harry. He glanced around his room. Not even 5 feet tall, the room was directly beneath the stairs. The longest part was where his bed was. Bed was a generous term. Dudley, his cousin, had a king sized bed, reputedly softer than even his Uncle's bed. Adorned with fine bed sheets, all replaced every two months, due to his eating habits while in bed. His Aunt and Uncle had a solid oak, four poster bed, white drapes hiding it at night.

Harry's bed was an old lawnmower bag filled with grass from last year. He had to replace it every year, or else bugs started making their way in. The bag was an old one Uncle Vernon saved from the last lawnmower, after Harry, age 6, was unable to cook breakfast quickly enough, complaining about a stiffness in his back. While that pain hardly went away, it was better than nothing.

His room had nails sticking out from underneath the stairs, where they held the carpet in place. His floor, no more than 2 feet wide, was spotless, the odd spider crawling across. Once, long ago, he might have been scared by spiders, but oddly enough he had made friends with them. He didn't bother them, sometimes helping them escape the house before his Aunt saw them, and they would bring him larger insects, full of protein. He hated it, but it seemed like the only thing that kept him alive.

He had a few shirts and pants, all Dudley's that he had outgrown, put beneath his bed. They were mostly grey and black, having had the colors drained by him on his Aunt's orders.

"Freaks should look like prisoners" where her exact words.

He grabbed some clothes, somewhat clean, and put them on. He found his only pair of socks on the floor, a few spiders crawling around. When his hand came near, they scuttled off, looking up at him. he slipped his old shoes, barely more than scraps of rubber after Dudley used them. Gently pushing the door, he found it was open.

Saturday, June 23. Dudley's 11th birthday. Time to make the breakfast.

* * *

><p>While the family of hippos and horses sat down to breakfast, Harry, silent with his head down, black spiky hair hiding his eyes, dished out the ham, bacon, eggs onto three plates. Much to his disgust, Dudley dived into the meal, somehow landing eggs on the floor. Vernon only grinned, exclaiming that his 'little tyke' needed to stay fit and healthy. Harry would have snorted if he was sure he couldn't be heard.<p>

When the walrus of a child finished, Harry gently took the plate, making sure not to make a sound. He added more food, this time more bacon at his insistence. It didn't take long for the entire family, minus Harry, to finish eating, moving onto the gifts. Almost at once, Dudley tried to count.

"24, 25, 27, 20... 20..." he tried, pausing as he tried to remember what came after 27.

"36 presents, counted them myself!" cheered the Dursly patriarch. Dudley frowned.

"That's two less than last year!" he shouted, pounding the table. Petunia, seeing a tantrum coming on, rushed over, gripping her beach ball of a son in her arms.

"Don't worry my Duddikins, we'll go to the zoo today and buy you two more presents, how does that sound?" Dudley, midway through a fake tantrum, stopped as if a switch had been thrown. Without even regarding his mother, he tore away, diving into the gifts.

He received a new television, a new computer, several new computer games, half as many movies, gift cards for arcades and fast food restaurants, and two watches. The first, being a brilliant gold with a digital and analog display, was a gift from the Dursly parents. The other, which was actually a gift to Vernon from his business partner, passed on to Dudley, was completely analog, no electronics whatsoever, and made with black metal, silver hands ticking. Dudley took one look at the black watch before snapping the case shut, throwing it behind him.

Harry, not sure what to do, caught it. His heart rate sped up immediately, fearing for his life. To his shock and pleasure, the family hadn't even noticed, to enamoured with their son tearing away paper on gifts. A thought crossed him.

They didn't see, they didn't care, Dudley obviously didn't care, and looking at it, he rather liked it. Why shouldn't he? So, being ever so discrete, he placed it in his pocket, his thin legs in pants 8 sizes too large for him providing enough room that it didn't show at all.

* * *

><p>Harry sat in his room, listening as the car in the driveway pulled out and left, leaving the child completely alone in the house.<p>

He had learned, shortly after breakfast had ended, that Mrs. Figg, the woman that looked after Harry when the rest were gone, had broken her leg. She was in hospital, unable to look after him. Marge, Vernon's sister was on a cruise somewhere, so she was unable to take him.

So, with much groaning and screaming on Dudley's part, Harry was to be left alone. He was strictly told that if the house even felt off, he would regret the day he had ever been dropped off on their doorstep. At that moment, he had held his legs together, hoping to make sure the watch wasn't noticeable.

So, they stuffed him in his room, failed to lock the door, and sped off to the zoo.

He quietly pushed the door open.

Light filtered onto his floor, warming his ankles that were showing. He glanced around, out of habit, before smiling. This was the first time he was truly alone. It was so silent. No great blobs of fat hanging around, crushing the stairs and causing dust to crash into his eyes, hidden behind glasses or not. So, he decided to do something he had dreamed of doing for years.

He walked to the back door.

In all his time at this house, he had never actually gone outside. Sure, sunlight had hit him, fresh air from a window, but even when Mrs. Figg watched him, he never left the house, she always came here. So, he decided he was going to go outside, into the backyard.

He glanced around, a force of habit, before unlocking the door. Slipping quietly outside, he stood in the small gazebo, thin glass and wood doors separating him from what he considered the greatest moment of his short life.

With shaking hands, he grasped the small silver knob, twisting it open.

Birds chirped, sending songs of cheer into the air. A fresh wind blew, carrying the scent of morning dew on the air. The clouds parted, revealing a golden sun, shining rays cascading onto the captive. It was as if mother nature herself was greeting this occupant into the world, welcoming him and blessing him with good fortune.

A deep lungful of the fresh air left him slightly light headed. He fell down, sitting on his rear, simply admiring the grass itself. The closest thing to a plant he had ever seen was his Aunt's failed experiment to breed Venus fly traps throughout the house. That was 3 years ago, and Harry did all the work.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, simply enjoying the outdoors, when his life changed.

He heard piercing cry, jolting him from his bliss. Thinking Vernon was about to hit him, he curled up into the fetel position, hoping to block most of the pain with his thin arms. He was quickly confused when nothing happened.

Squinting an eye open, he couldn't help but gasp.

An eagle, standing reverently on the grass in front of him. It was mostly a brown grey colour on the torso, thick feathers looking as if great pride was taken grooming them. Darker, grey wings spanned almost 2 meters in length, while black, intelligent eyes stared at him curiously. It's feet were fleshy yellow, with large black talons gripping the earth. On its left leg however, was a square of brown paper.

Seeing his gaze, the eagle raised its leg, offering the paper to Harry. The situation was extremely surreal to Harry, who had never ventured outside of the house itself. So, he did the logical thing.

He reached out and grabbed the paper. It came away, no threat or rope or anything connecting the letter to the leg. He glanced at the paper, staring.

_Mr. H Potter, _

_Little Whinging, Surrey_

_Number 4 Privet Drive_

The address was in uniform black ink, but in a pleasing swirly script. Opening the flap, he read the contents of the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_It has come to the attention of Gringotts Wizarding bank that your vaults have been tampered with. Due to this horrendous act, we will be fully reimbursing you. We at Gringotts would like to arrange a meeting so that we may clear any questions you may have about the tampering. _

_Ragnok, CEO of Gringotts Bank_

Harry put the letter down. One minute ago he was outside for the first time, the next, an eagle delivered him an owl about his bank account.

"Umm, can you take a message back?" asked Harry. In all honesty, he wasn't expecting an answer from the eagle, but he was surprised when it bobbed its head, making a much quieter scream.

Harry, caught up in the moment, both at the eagle responding and a letter actually being addressed to him, ran into the house. He glanced around, finding a pen on the counter. He quickly scribbled a reply, asking if he might be able to meet with someone to inform him. Harry knew, from overhearing his uncle, that having information made you powerful. While Harry was nothing like his Uncle, he did accept that he needed information. It never crossed his mind that this might be a prank, a vast joke set up by the Dursly's, all to make him look like a fool.

* * *

><p>Harry sat in his cupboard.<p>

It had been an hour since the eagle had departed, the scrap of paper magically stuck to her leg. He had guess her gender and was hoping it was right.

Since that moment though, his doubts grew and grew. At first, he wondered if it had happened, if it wasn't all just some illusion brought on by his brain. That led to him thinking that he was a freak, that his brain was deformed, giving him hallucination. His current mindset was now in a state of depression, convinced he was going crazy, and his whole excursion outside was nothing but a vivid fantasy.

_CRACK!_

With a crack, Harry was snapped out of his depression. It was a sharp noise, coming from just outside his door.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

Harry was stunned. How should he react?

"W-who is it?" he asked, meekly. If it was Vernon, then he would probably be starving for a few days.

A somewhat small, but official voice responded. "I am Griphook from Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Are you Harry James Potter?" asked the voice questioningly. Harry felt like crying. It had all happened.

Gently, Harry pushed the door open, revealing Griphook. He was short, shorter than Harry. He had very little hair on his head, sharp pointed ears jutting out from the few gray hairs. He was dressed in some sort of dark suit, with a gold pin over his heart.

The creature looked at Harry with surprise. To him, he was seeing an extremely malnourished child, covered in nothing but rags, with glasses looking like the lenses were being held together with glue. The room was... well, he didn't even want to go there. Suffice to say, it was not liveable in the slightest.

"Are you Mr. Potter?" asked Griphook. Harry nodded, pushed somewhat against the far wall of his room.

"As I said, my name is Griphook. I am a representative of Gringotts bank, here to inform you of your current situation. Judging by these conditions, we'll need to be talking about a lot more." Harry apologized, making sure Griphook didn't tell Vernon.

Griphook stared, utterly gobsmacked. Before he had left, he was told to treat Mr. Potter as carefully as physically possible. The reason being he currently was Gringotts biggest scandal in the making.

"So..." began Harry. "What... exactly are you here for?" he asked. Griphook looked at Harry, confused.

"You mean, you don't know? Your Vault has been tampered with, I'm here to arrange a meeting to ease any tensions." Harry stared at the diminutive creature.

"I have a Vault?" he asked innocently. Griphook's eyes widened. Clearly the situation was more dire than expected.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter was amazed. In a few short hours, he had gone from being a freak for no apparent reason, to being amongst the most respected people in the entire bank. His clothing, having been old tattered rags, were now some jeans and a shirt, making his already thin body look like a stick person.<p>

His watch, well, Dudley's, before he took it, now fit him. what shocked him, like the rest of this new world he had stumbled upon, was that the Goblin, Griphook, had waved a stick at his watch and it shrunk, fitting his wrist.

His glasses were brand new, supposedly reinforced and of a higher quality. He knew this was true, he was seeing everything clearly for the first time in a while. Even with his old glasses, his vision was always fuzzy.

He was currently in a soft, leather chair, far better than anything the Dursly's had, waiting for the CEO of the bank, Ragnok.

With a soft groan, the doors opened, revealing a goblin not unlike Griphook, only better dressed, with more hair and a respectable beard. Griphook followed behind, trying to tell the other goblin something.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter, sorry to have kept you waiting," began the goblin. Griphook all but stopped the goblin bank owner.

"There is a problem!" he whispered violently. This gained his attention.

"What then, and make it quick," snapped the goblin. Harry looked between the two. Currently, the whole situation was surreal, and he was willing to chalk it up to something the Dursly's put in his water.

"He doesn't know," whispered Griphook. At that, Ragnok paled.

"About?" he asked, frightened.

"Anything. From what I could tell at his place of residence, he's been Muggle raised, and in an abusive environment none the less." Ragnok coughed, silent for a few minutes. Finally he shooed the goblin away, leaving Harry with Ragnok.

"So... Mr. Potter," began Ragnok. Harry interrupted. If this was his dream, he was going to do things how he wanted.

"Please, call me Harry. It's, uncomfortable." Ragnok looked surprised, but nodded.

"I've been told you don't know anything about our world, is that correct?" Harry thought about it.

"Yes. I've never seen goblins, I have no idea what that was with the stick and my watch. I can only think it was magic." He frowned at the director's smile.

"You are indeed correct. There are two worlds on this earth, the Muggle, or non magical population, and the magical population. This is made up of Goblins, Wizards and witches, dragons, and most Muggle mythical creatures. The reason the two are separate is because humans have always been biased two ways with magic. A look at your Christianity is a good example of the cons of magic with muggles." Harry nodded through the explanation.

"You yourself are from a long line of powerful wizards and witches. I'm surprised you weren't raised in a magical environment." Harry nervously rubbed his arm. That was the arm that Vernon had scorched to the bone, in attempt to burn the 'freakishness' from him.

"In any event, you shouldn't worry about your magic. Just before your eleventh birthday, you'll get a letter to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It will teach you how to use your magic safely, while providing you with essential lessons on how to function in wizarding society." Harry nodded.

"But, we're here for another reason. The fact of the matter is, the Potter name currently owns 5 high security vaults with Gringotts. Your total net worth of these vaults combined is around 43 million galleons. In Muggle money, that's roughly 2 billion pounds." Harry almost had a heart attack right there.

"I'm... I'm rich?" he whispered, not believing it himself.

"Yes, and those are just the vaults you can access right now. If our records are correct, you have multiple inheritance vaults from several old or dead families, making the Potter vaults look like spare change." Harry was gobsmacked. This had to be a dream.

But there is one vault in particular we're concerned with. The second smallest vault belonging to the Potter's. At the time of their death, there was roughly 24 million galleons inside that vault. We've discovered a... discrepancy with that vault." Harry frowned.

"What happened? Something missing?" asked Harry. Ragnok shook his head.

"More like 19.3 million galleons." At this, Ragnok pulled out a piece of paper.

"Sign here and anyone involved with your vault, as well as me, shall be properly punished for such a large fault in our management. We cannot begin to express our apology over the situation. Please allow us to make up the difference any way you wish," continued Ragnok. Throughout the apology, he had grown profusely more prostrate, until he was practically bowing to Harry. The situation was very uncomfortable.

"Umm, that's ok. I've never had any money for myself, so... you could say it's not a big deal. Especially if I've got so much money anyways." Ragnok shook his head somewhat violently.

"No, the bank must atone for this atrocity, how it did not show up on your statements earlier is beyond me, but we must atone for our error," he continued.

Harry thought for a minute. It was obvious he was going to have to demand some sort of punishment. It would be seen as an offence to the Goblin bank if nothing was done. But he didn't care about the money...

"I have an idea," began Harry, pleased that Ragnok had raised his head. "What if you paid for my tuition to this Hogwarts, for my entire education, as well as school supplies?" Ragnok rubbed his beard, pondering.

"Perhaps, if we paid for everything you need during the school year... this includes the Hogsmead trips in third year. Would that be appropriate?" asked the goblin. Harry nodded.

"I would be ok with that," he replied. Ragnok smiled, pleased at the result. Truly, even for a Muggle born wizard, Mr. Potter was the nicest human he had met.

Ragnok adopted a serious tone. "We at Gringotts will provide you financially with everything you may need or want during your education. In addition, we will fix the wrongs your Muggle family have done to you." Harry shook his head at family.

"They are my Aunt and Uncle. They never even wanted me, kept telling me I was a waste. I don't even know what a family is," he said, a few flares of hate blossoming inside him.

Ragnok smiled. "We will have our Goblin medical team heal your body. I'm surprised you're standing with how thin you are. And don't worry, next time you are forced to see them, I wouldn't be surprised if they bowed to you." Harry tilted his head when the Goblin laughed somewhat evilly.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was angry.<p>

Harry Potter, his ace in the hole, path to Minister of Magic, was missing. All of his monitoring spells, ranging from the blood ward protection system to tracking spells placed on Harry, were dead. The large growing puddle of molten silver was proof.

If one had failed, he would chalk it up to just a bad spell cast. When all thirty of them failed at once, something was up. Dammit he needed that boy under his thumb for his plans! What's worse is he couldn't find the child through other means, be it the 'Point me' spell, or even going to his residence. The idiot muggles there only cheered when they heard Harry was missing.

He glanced at Fawkes, seeing the bird stare at him. "Oh shut it, you know I need the boy to reach my goal," snarled the aging wizard.

* * *

><p>[A.N.] That's the End of Chapter One. Tell me what you think? I really Like Reviews, and the button is just...<p>

V

Here.


	2. A wand

And I'm back folks, glad you stuck with me. Now, I'm going to address a few issues. First, for some reason, I haven't gotten any emails with your reviews like I usually do. In fact, my email account has had no indication that this story was ever posted. If anyone could point me in the right direction, please do. Now, onto viewer response.

Mr. Eclipse: I must say that while your idea is valid on the theory of a 'no one is bad,' I'm not particularly trying to make him 'evil,' but more 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' It will be revealed later. As for Harry being ok with everything, it'll hopefully be explained this chapter. Oh, and for my story, Goblin's don't traditionally use wands, but my theory is Goblin magic is designed more towards defence of structures, at least in the bank. Some have wands for the more 'human' like magic, such as a shrinking charm.

ShadoSentinel: While that was Canon, You'll see that his plans are much grandeur than that. Trust me when I say, Dumbledore might be off his rocker.

Sirius009: All I can say is if you don't like the story, I'm not forcing you to read it. Constructive criticism is always helpful. But you should be aware, I've been here less than a week. I have no idea what HP fanfiction realm cliche's are. Sorry if the story isn't up to stuff with you, but I'll take that last part as a compliment about my writing skill.

Now, If you weren't mentioned here, it's not because I don't care about your review, but a few were about the same thing, those were the only two things I decided to explain. But enough of my rambling, let's get down to brass tacks.

On with the story.

* * *

><p>Harry didn't open his eyes. He knew it was a dream. A truly wonderful dream, filled with magic, friendly goblins, magic, gold, magic, information, did he mention magic?<p>

He didn't open his eyes however, because it was all just a dream. He would open his eyes, shoo the spiders away, put his clothing on, and proceed to feed his relatives until they were fatter and sweating.

Opening his eyes, he glanced around. It took his groggy mind, still happy with the dream, a moment to come to a realization that lit a fire in his body.

This was not his room.

Nor was it any room in the Dursly home. It was fairly plain, grey walls, faded dark wood floors, a window looking out onto London, and a giant four poster bed, with sheets and a mattress that put the Dursly's to shame. In the corner of the room was the eagle he had first seen, his eagle now, her head stuffed in the crook between her body and wing. A cage sat next to her, resting on the desk. Beside the desk, raised on a low shelf, was a large black wood trunk, purchased to hold all his supplies, hand picked by Ragnok.

Harry fell back onto his bed, tears of happiness.

"It wasn't a dream," he said, reveling in that simple sentence.

Magic, the explanation for everything. His aunt and uncle hated his mother, who married his magical father, who both parented a magical child. When they were forced to take care of him, they decided to get rid of his 'freakishness,' through regular physical abuse. It explained his fast healing, his above average intellect, the odd things that seemed to happen to him.

He jumped up with a start. "I just told the bank not to worry about 19 million gold coins." Harry pondered that statement. He had over 40 million gold coins, all weighing several ounces each. He was richer than his Uncle could ever hope to be. He swung his legs out of bed, standing up.

He immediately felt dizzy, wavering on his feet like an ocean was pounding him. remembering yesterday, he remembered Ragnok telling him about the litres and litres of goblin potions that he consumed, all made to restore his body to above average health for an almost 11 year old boy. This included nearly 50 pounds of muscle and a bit of fat, making his weight around 90 pounds. While a bit larger than what he thought an 11 year old should be, he did feel better than he had in a long time.

It didn't take effort to get out of bed. It didn't leave him winded to open his trunk, nor to cloth himself in what he expected proper clothing was. When he had drank 4 litres of restorative potion, apparently the human version of it would have killed him in such large amounts, he had been outfitted with the finest clothes. He had taken an immediate dislike for the robes, seeing them as a waste of fabric. Instead, he opted for some black pants, shoes, white shirt, a black sweater and hair tie for his unruly black hair, now done messily behind his head. Out of habit, he brushed some hair over his scar, hiding it. His aunt didn't like the scar, saying he was a freak for it. Besides that, apparently it was a sign of who he was, making him stand out.

He reached into his new trunk, amazed that it was larger on the inside, and grabbed a bottle marked '1.' According to one of the goblin healers, he had 12 of these 'calming' potions. They would help him enter society without feeling as shy as he did, even around the other goblins. There was one for each day, consecutively getting weaker and weaker, but he didn't know that.

He remembered the words of Ragnok.

_Flashback_

_Harry had just woken from his potion induced sleep and was eating a veritable feast, all by himself. There was ham, bacon, steak, vegetables, fruit, breads, drinks, more consumable good on that table than the Dursly family had ever eaten in one go. And he was eating it all._

_It didn't take long, but he finished a great deal of the food on the table, patting his larger stomach. Ragnok finished eating as well, happy that his best client was not suing for his death._

"_Mr. Potter, before we end today's discussion, there are a few more points I wish to cover." Harry nodded, feeling content. In a far corner of his mind, he knew this was a dream, but he was going to live this dream like a king._

"_We've taken the opportunity to buy you a space enhance trunk and several sets of clothes, as well as a few more potions to help your physical health. We've also taken the liberty of securing a place of residence until term begins at Hogwarts." Harry nodded. Most of the information he didn't remember. He was just going to wake up later. _

"_We suggest that you explore Diagon Alley during your stay. There are a few shops you should explore. I've assembled a list of shops you should visit to get your supplies. Should you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask a teller for help, we'll be glad to help you in any way." Harry nodded, still feeling good from his 'dream meal' and the sheer absurdity of the situation. He knew it was a dream, magic couldn't exist._

"_If that's everything, then I'll have a goblin escort you to where you will be staying. While it has been a great joy meeting with you, we do have other matters at the bank that require attention. Do you require anything else?" asked the goblin, shuffling some paper. Harry shook his head._

_Flashback End_

Looking around his new trunk, slamming his fingers against the side, unused to his extra height and strength, he found a scrap of paper. It had a list of a few different shops and where he could find them, written on a sheet of parchment.

He smiled widely again, once again realizing this was all happening. Unknown to him, the calming potion was working its way through him, helping him adjust to the world faster than he should have. It was a less common potion, given to Muggle born or Muggle raised children that might have a hard time accepting the magical world. It wasn't usually needed, but Ragnok had the foresight to give him the potion.

"Ollivanders for a wand... Apocathary for potion supplies... Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions for more clothing." Harry lowered the list, still not believing this was all happening. In all honesty, it was a dream come true. He didn't have to go back to the Dursly's house, there was this whole world where he was rich, and he got to go shopping.

Despite his small body, he immediately headed out the door, asking the barkeep for some breakfast with a confidence he hadn't known in years.

* * *

><p>The shop door dinged, signalling the arrival of a new customer, door creaking on hinges hundreds of years old. Dust drifted down, shafts of sunlight made the dust visible, intensifying that old feel.<p>

"H-hello?" called Harry, absently rubbing his arm, phantom pain making it hurt. It often did this in situations where he was nervous.

"Hello!" came a voice to his left.

"WAHH!" shrieked Harry, jumping to the left. He turned to face a man. Silver hair, trimmed neatly. Pale blue eyes stared at him, unblinking, almost peering into his soul.

"Who are you?" asked Harry quickly. The man smiled.

"Ollivander, owner of Ollivander's wands. And you Harry Potter, are here for a wand, correct?" Harry nodded briefly. Despite the potion, he was feeling nervous.

Ollivander smiled again. Without a word, he walked over to a safe, spinning the dial left and right. With a faint click, he opened it, pulling out a very old box. Opening it, he pulled out a wand.

"11 inches. Holly with a phoenix core. I was given this wand to give to you by Dumbledore." Harry nodded, unaware that he was reaching towards it. Too his shock and horror, Ollivander, cried fiercly.

"HEYAH!" he cried, snapping it over his leg. Multiple bursts of sparks, orange, blue, green, yellow, white, and all the colors between shot out. Harry stared aghast.

"Thankfully, without him here, or one of his lackeys here, we don't have to give you that sorry excuse for a wand."

Harry's face morphed from shock to confusion. "What?" he asked.

"Dumbledore came here 10 years ago and told me I would give you that wand. Suspicious, I checked it out. I was greatly disturbed by the spells cast on it. Multiple magic limiters, compulsion charms, obedience charms, all spells used on ministry prisoners." Harry wasn't sure what the Ministry was. He had heard of the British Parliament, but he wasn't sure if the Ministry was the same.

"So, I decided, should you ever come back beforehand, I would do something unexpected. I never liked Dumbledore after the first war. So, as a bit of revenge, we're going to make him mad." Harry didn't like the sound of that, making this 'Dumbledore' angry.

"We're going to build you a new wand. Using all the materials I've hidden away for years." Harry perked up.

Following the wand maker, Harry found himself upstairs. The room was divided into two sections. On the one side, multiple tables with jars, filled with varying substances ranging from solid objects to gasses of all varieties and consistencies.

On the other side were various bars of wood, all about 8 feet long and of every color and grain.

"First, we'll need your magical core. This focuses your magic based on your magical core. Just run your hand over the tops and pick up anything that pulls to you." Harry nodded, shuffling over to the tables. As he grew closer, he could feel an energy in the room, reverberating from the jars.

His hand stretched out, hovering over the closest jar. Inside sat a small white scale. Nothing happened. He continued to pass his hand over other jars, large ones, small ones, black ones, yellow one, some with heavy locks and straps, some with nothing more than a rubber seal. His hand passed over a particular one.

It was a simple latch, holding a clear glass lid on top, rubber seal keeping the contents inside. Harry picked up the container, looking into the depths of the gas inside. It was mostly black, deep, endless black, with flashes of green and red energy. It looked like a storm inside, raging against everything.

"Hmm, curious, very curious," murmured the wand maker. He snatched the container from Harry, startling him, unused to such speed without pain.

"What is it?" asked Harry quietly. Ollivander smiled.

"That, Mr. Potter, is my little secret." Leaving it at that, he walked over to the section with wood.

"This is much the same, touch each individual piece of wood while holding the core. We'll know when it's chosen." Obliging, Harry took the canister, storm rolling inside. He touched a few different woods, varying in color, softness, grain, until he found the right one.

"Hmm, Ebony, firm, unyielding. A great wood for all branches of magic. It should only channel your magic." Harry nodded, not sure what the old man was going on about. Collecting the strip of wood and jar, Ollivander faced Harry.

"This... this will take me some time to complete. If you come back in a few days, it should be done." Harry nodded.

"Umm, what happens if it doesn't work?" asked Harry. Ollivander smiled.

"Trust me, it will work," he grinned, already facing some of the wood shaping equipment. Taking this as his notice, Harry awkwardly left, exiting the store. Turning to look at the building once more, he was shocked to notice the blinds were closed, with a large 'CLOSED' sign on the front.

Feeling suddenly very alone and very vulnerable, Harry headed back towards his room at the Leaky Cauldron, hoping to spend some time with his Eagle, Hedwig.

* * *

><p>Harry stood inside the wand shop the next day. It was late, late enough that people had already left most of the alley, leaving the chirping of crickets before they were fed to the owls.<p>

Ollivander had told him to wait a bit longer when he came by at noon, saying it needed a few more adjustments. So, here he was, 8:30 according to his watch, standing out there, wearing some of the wizarding robes he bought. He wasn't sure if he could wear them 24/7, but he needed to get a feel for them. After all, if living at the Dursly's taught him anything, it was that you had to get used to anything very quickly.

His memories of that house vanished as the strange old man came out from the back, holding a box. It was newer looking, marine blue on the outside with a standard white bottom.

With a flourish, he pulled the lid off. Harry gasped. Having lived in a completely anti magic environment, he was no connoisseur of wands, but he did know this one was good.

The Ebony wood was black, giving it a very intimidating look. It was about 11 inches long if he had to guess, pointed at the end, with a grip at the bottom. The grip itself was covered in some sort of scaled leather, gripping his hand. A small raised edge indicated where his hand shouldn't go above.

"11 inches, Ebony, with my own mystery core. A magnificent wand, equally suited for a magnificent wizard." Holding it out to Harry, he grasped it, feeling a rush of energy along his arm and into his body. Red and green sparks danced off the end, lighting up the room.

"Just as I thought, perfect," murmured the wand maker. When harry pulled out his money bag, Ollivander held up his hand.

"No no Mr. Potter, this was a custom job. A custom job that hopefully makes Dumbledore mad, consider it on the house," he smiled. Harry thanked the man, leaving the store quickly.

* * *

><p>A month quickly passed, the only notable event being his letter from the school. It merely told him to buy much of what he already owned, the only exception being a textbook for potions. For the first time in a while, he wasn't alone on his birthday.<p>

After having a custom order from Ollivander, the two had a form of friendship between the two. While he didn't have a party or dinner, the aging wand crafter gave Harry his first birthday gift. A wand holster, made of dragon hide, the same that served as a grip for his wand. It was a simple instrument, strapping around his arm, sending his wand down his sleeve at will.

Finally though, it was September. Term started today, which meant the students would ride the Hogwarts train that day.

He had spent his entire month pouring over his texts, practicing wand movements. While he couldn't explicitly practice any, he could practice the movements with a similar sized stick. Living with the Dursly's, he had only three books. All that Dudley didn't want. The first was 'Tom Sawyer,' followed by 'Ender's Game,' and finally, his last book, 'Sun Tsu, Art of War.' All those books, well, most of the books he got, he just left lying around. Over four years, Harry nicked those and a dictionary, all four he poured over any chance he had. This sudden influx of reading material was like a heaven all on its own, letting him dive into something new every day.

He was currently at Kings Cross Station, where, according to Tom the barkeep, he had to run through the load bearing support between platform 9 and 10. So here he was, an Eagle in a cage it obviously didn't like, on top of a black wood trunk, on a cart, standing in front of the barrier. He wasn't absolutely sure if it was true. Certainly he had seen magic do some need things, but this was a whole new level of crazy.

"Wondering how to get through?" asked a feminine voice. Harry jumped, hearing the person speak to him, and based on how loud it was, very close to him. Harry turned to look at the person who had frightened him. even a month after leaving that awful home, and a series of potions designed to help him, courteous of the goblin bank that was apparently still in debt to him by several million galleons, he was still frightened easily by new people, situations, or locations.

The girl in front of him was his age, with deep black hair, having an almost blue color to it, trailing down past her shoulders. Bright, violet eyes shone, looking at him with amusement. Lightly tanned skin stood out, giving her a depth of color that most people in London didn't have. Her clothing consisted of a deep green sweater, blue jeans and black boots.

"Umm, I'm new to all... this," motioned Harry, pointing to his cart and hers. He noticed her trunk was a brown color, with black metal straps protecting the corners. A brown barn owl sat in a cage, yellow eyes staring curiously at Edward's Eagle.

"Muggle raised?" she asked. Harry nodded, a bit downcast.

"Not to worry, just run at it, here, I'll go first," she said. Before Harry could say anything, she ran forward, her card ahead of her. Right when he expected her to crash, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see. Opening them, he was shocked to see nothing.

Then her head popped out.

"Come on, the train's going to leave soon!" she stated, disappearing again.

"Oh this is weird," muttered Harry. Pushing his cart forward, he got it up to a decent speed, his cart an inch from the wall. He closed his eyes, expecting pain across his midsection. It would probably feel like Vernon's walking stick.

To his surprise, he opened his eyes to find a grinning girl with violet eyes standing next to him, an I-told-you-so look on her face.

* * *

><p>And this is where I leave you for tonight folks. I hope the chapter has been good, I certainly classify this as somewhat of a useless chapter. If anything, the wand was my favorite part.<p> 


	3. Sorting

Alright, third chapter people, looking good. Now, You shouldn't expect updates every other day, but this is a rare moment for me. Now, not much to say, only one review that I think should be addressed, and for a good reason.

Mr. Eclipse: Of course the calming potions won't completely cure him, but they did a huge dent to his personality. He'll have to learn how to be more open, but the potions just help him to that. The reason I didn't go into detail about the shops is because in the grand scheme of things, nothing happens. Only Draco is encountered, and in my story there is no encounter, so the wand shop was the only part I needed to write about. Finally, the Eagle is named Hedwig. It's the same Eagle that brought Harry the letter from the bank. The goblins gave it to him, hoping to keep his apparently great wrath away.

Le Diablo Blank2: His wand core is something I'll reveal later on in the story. Suffice to say, it's interesting.

Alright, so two reviews I addressed, feel special guys! But if that's done, I'll say one last thing. This is only book one. I've seen it done where a person rewrites the entire series with a new character, or a different Harry. I'm essentially doing that, but as to the progress of the other books, I can't say. This might be a standalone story, or it could be book 1.

On with the story.

* * *

><p>Harry and the girl boarded the train quickly, the porters swiftly removing their bags and taking them to the luggage car. It took them several minutes of navigating the cars till they found an empty room. Sitting down on the greenish blue seats, the girl flicked her wand at the door, the glass and wood sliding closed.<p>

"Daphne Greengrass, pleasure to meet you," she stated, holding her hand out. Harry, wary of new people, hesitantly shook her hand.

"Harry... Harry... Potter," he replied, repeating his first name. Even after a month, it still felt weird. He was far more used to 'freak' and 'filth.'

"You're _the _Harry Potter?" she asked. Harry noticed she had quite a bit of awe in her voice.

"Uhh, so?" he asked, confused. A lightbulb flicked on inside his head.

"Ohh! You're talking about the fame thing, right?" She nodded. Harry, feeling somewhat at ease, nodded.

"I'm am Harry Potter, but please don't tell anyone. I don't like attention," he replied. Daphne nodded, her brilliant violet eyes trained on him. it was only a moment, but she averted her gaze, fingering her wand embarrassingly. A thought came to mind.

"Hey, you've seen my wand, can I see yours?" she asked. He had indeed seen her wand. It was a white color, more of a perfect cone than like his with a small groove where a handle would be. He pulled his out from his sleeve, holding it between his two index fingers.

"11 inches, Ebony. I don't know what's inside of it," answered Harry, seeing her confused look. He could have sworn she mumbled something about him using a holly and phoenix wand in the books. Snapping her eyes up, she rattled off the details of her wand.

"Elder, 10.5 inches, with a thestral heartstring. Apparently it's good with charms." Harry nodded.

"Mine's not really specific. Ollivander custom made it, but didn't tell me the details." Her eyes widened at the mention of Ollivander. She shot forward, leaning very close to Harry. He did his best to lean back, the closeness being unfamiliar to him.

"You got a custom made wand?" she asked, awed. Harry squeaked a yes.

"That... Is... AWESOME!" she cried. Her voice was very high, but not like Petunia. Where her voice was like a dying donkey, Daphne's voice was like music.

"He hasn't made a custom wand in over 60 years. You must be really special if he did that," she continued. Harry nodded. He didn't want to divulge the secret about the other wand. The one that could have been his.

She would have continued if there wasn't a knocking at the door. Sliding it open, a red haired boy leaned in.

"Can I sit in here, there's no room elsewhere," he replied nervously. Harry looked at him.

Bright, vibrant red hair, ears that shot out away from his head, and more freckles than you could shake a stick at. But there was something in his eyes... something... It was as if he had a job.

"Umm, no... we're expecting people," replied Daphne, seeing Harry somewhat upset at his presence. The boy frowned.

"Oh, Ok," he said, closing the door. Harry looked nervously at Daphne.

"More... people?" he asked. Daphne laughed.

"Nah, I just didn't want him here, he didn't look right," she stated. "Something about his eyes."

Not a minute passed before the next intruder put her head in. She had black hair just like Daphne, but electric blue eyes.

"Daphne! There you are! I lost you after seeing the Eagle on the train! Oh, who's this?" Daphne sighed.

"Tracy, this is Harry Potter, yes, that Harry. Harry, this is Tracy, she's my best friend." Harry nodded.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" she asked. Harry was forcing himself back against the seat as Tracy leaned in close, electric blue eyes going over him. Harry nervously moved his hair out of the way, revealing his thunderbolt scar.

"Oh my god that is so cool! I'm friends with Harry Potter!" She flung herself on the other seat, right next to Harry, and hauled him back onto their seat, Harry nervously between a calm yet funny Daphne, and an extremely hyper Tracy. While it was completely new for him, and he would prefer to be on the other side, it wasn't that bad, having two people hold onto his arms.

"So, Harry, what's your wand like?" Harry, both arms still held by the girls, motioned towards the sleeve. Using her free hand, Tracy pulled it out.

"Ohh! Ebony! That's a strong type of wood! What's the core?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"It was a custom wand by Ollivander, he didn't say." She nodded, twirling the wand in her hands. Harry, taking initiative, started asking questions.

"So how do you know each other?" he asked. Tracy looked at him. Placing his wand in his sleeve, she spoke.

"Well, our parents were good friends through Hogwarts, both being in Ravenclaw. When we were born, they just brought us during their visits. We are actually best friends." Harry nodded. He felt a pang of loneliness. He would never know what it would be like to have loving parents.

The three talked, going from family to magic they might already know, to what house they might be sorted.

It didn't take long for another person to arrive at the door, opening it rudely. Harry scowled. Even if Tracy was a friend, he was quickly starting to hate these people who thought they could intrude on them.

In the entrance stood a boy. He had pale, lifeless blond hair, done in a greasy comb over. His skin was the same shade of white, while piercing grey eyes scanned the room. On either side of him were two almost identical kids, with the same body mass as Dudley. They looked dumb but strong.

"Do either of you know where Harry Potter is? My father said he would be on the train." Harry noted with distaste his voice was snobbish, almost like when Petunia talked down to him, like he was a simple minded idiot.

In a rare moment of brilliance and temporary courage, Harry spoke confidently. "No, he's not here, he probably left when he heard a freak like you was coming by, filth," he spat. Daphne and Tracy were stunned. Certainly they didn't know him that well, but he outright insulted the kid.

"Watch it! I don't know who you are, but my father can make things very difficult for you if you oppose me." Harry, now working off adrenaline, for normally he would be accepting it and staying in the corner, pressed on. He wasn't sure where his confidence was coming from, but he liked it.

"Go cry to daddy like a good little girl, freak," finished Harry. The door slammed shut, lock clicking into place.

"You'll regret this!" he exclaimed, voice muffled through the glass and fabric blinds. Harry shuddered, suddenly collapsing on the seat.

"You ok?" asked Daphne. Harry just rubbed his arm, shaking. It wasn't until a few minutes later that he calmed down.

Daphne and Tracy were looking at him worriedly. He was just staring at the seat opposite, shaking, unresponsive. The trolley cart passed by, Tracy buying some chocolate. From what she knew, there was a product in chocolate that reacted with the magical core, somewhat like a calming potion. A few bites later and Harry calmed down.

"You ok?" repeated Daphne. Harry answered, if cryptically.

"I... I'm not... sure," he said, hesitantly. Tracy and Daphne shared a worried look. They both shoved more chocolate into his mouth, hoping for the best.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until much later that Harry calmed down. At the ministrations of the two girls, he regained himself. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but that brief moment of bravery had done something. It drained him emotionally, letting his mind inadvertently create situations where things could have gone wrong, resulting in Dursly'esque punishment.<p>

He followed the group of first years into the great hall. Shortly before he had registered the last part of the professors speech. Doing good got your house points, doing bad lost them. They would be sorted when they got in through some means.

At the front of the great hall was a raised wooden platform, where the staff table was, arranged in a rectangular style towards the students. At the edge of this wooden platform was a solid wood chair, with a tattered piece of leather.

"Hey, how are you doing?" asked Daphne, nudging him. Harry nodded.

"Better. I'm not sure what happened," he whispered. She nodded, gripping his arm. Tracy did the same, comforting him. the group stopped, congregating into more of a T formation, spread across the wooden platform's edge, while extending back to the main door.

"When I call your name, you will sit on this chair. The sorting hat will place you in your ideal house, based on who you are." There were a few groans from some students, including a certain read head.

"My family has always been in Slytherin. My father would skin me if I didn't follow the family name," drawled the blond. Daphne and Tracy shared looks, a small grin on their faces.

"Abbot, Hannah." A girl with blond hair walked up and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the old ratty hat on her head. It was scarcely there for a minute before it shouted.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The right most table cheered, accepting the blond haired girl. She continued to prattle off names, new students running, shuffling, crawling up to the chair.

"You know, my whole family has been in Slytherin, I'd die of shame if I wasn't sorted there," repeated the blond. Harry looked to see Malfoy talking to himself. Harry had an idea. He leaned over to Tracy.

"When you go up, can you ask the hat for Malfoy to be in Gryffindor?" She nodded, the grin still on her face. Harry leaned over and repeated the statement.

"Davis, Tracy," called the teacher. Tracy moved from his left, heading up the steps to the chair. The hat was on her head for less than a second before deciding.

"SLYTHERIN!" it shouted. The table cheered, black robes accented with deep blue. Harry clapped, a small smile on his face.

"Greengrass, Daphne," called McGonagall. Daphne left from his side as well, sitting on the stool. The hat took longer, staying there for a minute. Her face twisted with emotions, ranging from angry to shocked. Finally, the hat had an answer.

"SLYTHERIN!" The professor removed the hat, Daphne skipping over to the table, joining Tracy, both looking at him expectantly. Harry immediately knew where he wanted to be.

The names continued, person after person. The ginger from before was sorted into Gryffindor, greeted by what appeared to be a clan of gingers

"Malfoy, Draco." The arrogant boy walked up, sitting proudly on the chair. The ratty hat was placed on his head, covering his eyes. Several tense minutes passed, before the hat decided it's verdict.

"GRYFFENDOR!" it screamed. The hall was completely silent. Only the soft clapping of the surprised headmaster was heard. No sound was made as the child made his way to the far end of the table sitting down. His head struck the surface soundly, magic already applying the house colors.

"Potter, Harry." A low din of whispers erupted with that name. Harry noticed the ginger clan, Weasly clan, were looking at the remaining group of first years, hoping to find him. On shaky feet, he stumbled forward. His heart hammered in his chest as everyone stared at him expectantly. He sat down at the chair, the hat obscuring his face and everything, calming him slightly.

_Oh, what's this? Another Potter?_

_Another?_

_Yes, did you think you were the only Potter to come and be sorted. Now, let's see what makes you tic..._

The hat was silent, prowling through his mind with grace, leaving nothing but a few pushes on his mind.

_Oh, yours is a sad story, isn't it?_

_Please, don't talk about it. Just sort me, please._

_Alright. You should know, the Headmaster, Dumbledore, wished me to threaten you with Slytherin. But, if his plans resulted in your situation... Hmmm. The brains of a Ravenclaw, loyalty of a Hufflepuff, Cunning of a Slytherin, Bravery of a Gryffindor, an ideal match for all. What do you think?_

_Slytherin. My friends are there. Please?_

_Hmm, true, true... To separate you from them would be a fate crueler than death, so there is no real choice, is there? A word of advice, keep them close. The coming years, you will need them._

"SLYTHERIN!" The table to the far right was silent, but only for a moment, before screaming in joy. The Gryffindor table was silent, a few of the braver people clapping silently. Hufflepuff clapped anyways, while Ravenclaw clapped out of politeness.

Harry sat on the bench between Daphne and Tracy, gazes already focused on him. At the staff table, unknown to everyone, a certain headmaster was scowling slightly. Plans would have to be changed.

* * *

><p>With a girl on each arm, Harry walked with the Slytherin first years, the prefect leading them down and down, until they were in the dungeons. They were standing before a picture of a large snake, watching them warily. Two large pillars were on either side, framing the already extravagant picture.<p>

"First years, this is the entrance to your dorm." The Prefect, a boy with blond hair and brown eyes, pointed at a portrait of a large snake between two pillars.

"The password is changed once a month, it's posted inside. _Gryffindor Sucks."_ As he spoke the somewhat obvious password, the portrait opened, swinging on a magical hinge upwards, revealing a black marble tunnel, about 8 feet long. The first years stepped through, revealing the common room.

The Slytherin common rooms were much different than the ones belonging to the other three houses. Gryffindor had a tower, Ravenclaw was actually a portrait next to the library using space expansion charms, and Hufflepuff was near the great hall.

The common room was large and rectangular. The ceiling arched upwards, four large pillars running the length of the main room. Two hallways branched off, one for the males, one for the females. Couches were situated around each pillar, while each pillar itself served as a hearth. Tables made of dark wood lined the perimeter, more hearths providing warmth.

The first years had the rooms of the previous 7th years. They would stay in that room until they graduated, where new first years would take their place. The whole place was charmed, so there were always enough rooms.

"My name is Professor Snape. I have only a few things to say. New students, welcome, old students, welcome back. The other houses will despise you for simply being here. Outside of this room, everyone is to be treated as a brother or sister. I do not care how you treat each other here, so long as it is civilly. First years, your rooms are down at the end of the left hall. Returning students, if you don't know where you room is, start guessing. One last thing. First years, boys may not enter the girls wing, lest... unfortunate... things happen." The older students coughed, all remembering Jacob, the 6th year who tried to sneak into the women's wing. It was a sad day when it was revealed he was castrated with a large stone brick. With that little speech done, the greasy teacher left.

Harry followed the rest of the boys into the left wing, finding his room.

In the center was a large king sized bed with green and black sheets. The floor was a green carpet, charmed to be naturally warm. Near the left wall was a hearth with a small couch, a table in front. On the right wall was a desk, right next to a second door. Through there was a bathroom with a large shower and sink. At the foot of his bed was his trunk. Harry grabbed some of his night clothes, a black shirt and black nylon pants. His wand was placed on the bed side table, sliding between the silk sheets.

It didn't take long for him to drift to sleep, the events of the train still with him.

* * *

><p>[A.N.] That's chapter three. Happy Easter by the way folks! Now, I know my chapters are shorter and shorter, but don't worry, the next one will be much longer, probably 4K. Now, I have had great input on this story, in fact, it's literally my most popular fic. I only ask that if you add it to story alert, you post a review. I like long ones, no 'good job,' 'I demand more' reviews. Please criticize me if you find something off, curious about where I'm going, just give me longer reviews.<p>

Now, if your still unsure, this is only a redo of book one. Depending on my scedual, I might turn all the stories into this one story, or I'll do seven separate books. I'm not sure. But suffice to say, I'll be doing stuff along the lines of Canon. Except I hate Ron, and Hermione will probably never make an appearance, cept as a paralysis victim. Maybe.

Hope you enjoyed, please review, it helps, honestly.


	4. Dark Lords?

Chapter 4 gentlemen! Great to be back! Now, I'm going to try and get the ball rolling here, but I won't make any promises. The actual plot might take a bit, but we'll see.

Now, I've been reading a few other fanfics that revolve around this idea, Harry in snake land, abused harry, rich harry, all the similar shit. I'm hoping to steer this story away from the norm, if only a little. Now, reviewer responses.

Anon: Well, your review was astounding. Let's address a few points here, chronologically of course. First, yes, I am young, not even out of high school yet, crazy world we live in, isn't it? Second, I'm taking offence that a total stranger is critiquing me on my looks, craterface. Third, if I'm not attractive for writing HP fanfiction, can I assume a reader is unattractive as well, craterface? Fourth, gee, we're getting along, aren't? We? I've only been in the HP section for a little under two weeks, not a long time to read, juggling between school, homework, part time job and daily chores. Fifth, I have never said my writing was superb, in fact, I excel much better at comprehension that actual writing, but let's face it, we all can't have the magical skill you possess, can we? Gosh darn, we're at six now. I think I'll group the next few together, lest I 'skew' the word count. Most of the current plot is still in a word document, hence, you won't understand everyone disliking Dumbledore. As for him saying he got a custom wand, let's face it, in the Dursly home, he was probably brought up to reveal details or get skinned alive. Now, onto seven. I've looked, and unless you can point out SPECIFICALLY where prohibits review responses, I'll be continuing. Now, 8. Golly gee, you really left a review, didn't you? Eight, perhaps I'm just not that great of a writer? Perhaps I am not that good enough to SHOW rather than TELL my story? After all, I'm doing this because writing gives me a bit of satisfaction. And the 51 reviews so far of people liking my story, that and 123 story alerts says to me people like this story the way it's going and can look past my shortcomings. As for my arrogance, well, perhaps you're right, perhaps it is an ugly trait, and I agree, but don't presume to know me. Hmm, will you look at this, your review response has skewed the chapter by 363 words ! Who would've thought? I really hate to see your reviews against people who do a block story.

Cah11: Yeh, sorry about the robe thing. I originally had them in Ravenclaw, and with Hermione, but a facepalm moment made me remember to change it to Tracy and Slytherin.

But, enough of me, you all want the story, don't you? Yes you do, yes you do! sit! Sit! Good boy/girl! Who want's a cookie? Yes you do! CAN'T HAVE ONE. Have a story instead.

On with the story.

* * *

><p>Harry walked with Daphne and Tracy towards their first class, Potions with Professor Snape.<p>

"On the bright side, it's near our rooms," commented Tracy, hanging off of Harry's right arm. Daphne grumbled, hanging off of his left arm.

"I still don't like it, it's cold and damp outside of my room down here. I'd rather go where the sun can shine." Harry found himself agreeing with that statement.

The trio arrived at the classroom. On the outside, it had a large, depressing door that was flush with the wall and floor. Walking in, the room wasn't that much nicer.

The odd window seemed to suck out light instead of provide it, a curious green mist had accumulated on the ceiling, the tables were dark oaken wood, the supply cabinets were chained closed, and the teacher's desk was empty, except for a tray and some paper. Covering one wall was a chalkboard, with ingredients to a 'pepper up' potion.

The three nervously took their seats, the girls sitting on either side of him. the one side of the class, garbed in red and gold robes, looked envious at the green and silver side. It didn't take long for the teacher to walk in, hair covered in black grease.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Through his speech, he walked to the front of the classroom, turning around. His robes billowed out around him, creating an intimidating effect. Harry squinted as it happened. Something wasn't right with his robes.

The professor's glare cut across the room, landing on the blond ponce dressed in gold and red.

"Malfoy, I'm surprised, your whole family has been Slytherin for generations, thought you'd break away did you?" he asked, sneering. Malfoy glared.

"Tell me, where would I find a Beor?" Draco opened and closed his mouth, unable to answer.

"Pity, you didn't think to prepare for your trailblazing. 20 points from Gryffindor." The class was fairly... tense... from then on. The students immediately started making the potion. The lack of detailed instructions led to some difficulties though.

A scream of pain drew the looks of everyone. There was a Gryffindor on the ground, covered in angry red boils, with a melted cauldron.

"Honestly Longbottom, I'm assuming you forgot to turn the heat off before the porcupine quills?" He scowled. He flicked his wand, banishing the molten slag and angry red viscous liquid.

"While I bring this dunderhead to the hospital wing, finish up, bottle a sample and place it on my desk. You may leave when the bell rings." In an angry spin of his robes, he dragged the student through the doors. It slammed shut violently, leaving the students to work silently. The trio worked quickly, not wanting to draw the wrath of the potions master, even if he was their head of house. It didn't matter if they were in his house, the man was probably off his rocker.

* * *

><p>Daphne and Tracy sat at the Slytherin table, eating lunch quietly. There were other students, some drifting in, some out. Tracy was absently looking for Harry, while Daphne was looking harder.<p>

"Where is he? He said he would be here for lunch." Tracy huffed. "And there I had all these great ideas on how to make him more open," she growled. Daphne poked her arm playfully.

"Give him time, whatever troubles him is there to stay. He probably went to the library, nobody but a few Ravenclaws at any given time." Tracy tilted her head in thought. She guzzled her water, finished her sandwich and grabbed Daphne, dragging her out of the hall by her arm.

"Where are you taking me!" she shrieked, much to the amusement of people in the hall.

"To the library. We're finding Harry," she stated, a wild gleam in her eyes.

Several minutes later, and with a bit of arguing, the two Slytherins arrived in the library. Soft red carpet lined the floors, heavy oaken bookshelves were everywhere, towering above the students. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating entire isles of the library. There were soft couches and study desks interspaced, padded in royal blue cloth.

"Alright, you cover history and reference, I'll cover defence and charms. We'll meet in transfiguration and theory." Tracy nodded, heading for the far corner of the library. Daphne started in the charms section.

The books there were smaller, newer looking and bound in leather. It was a larger section, comprising of a few dozen shelves, all dozens of feet long and high. The only things she found were an open book on a heating charm and a couple of 7th years making out. She continued into defence.

Tracy meanwhile was searching the history section. By far it was the largest section of the library, and as such, required a bit more of an intensive search. Unfortunately, being a first year, she had very little appreciation for this section of the library. She was very surprised that in the first five minutes she found the black haired boy.

He was sitting at one of the oak desks, with a few older looking books scattered around him. she meandered over to the first year, making herself known early.

"Hi Harry, what are you doing?" she asked, gesturing to the books.

Harry shrugged. "Looking up the Potter family history," he replied, head on his arms, a thoughtful look in his eyes. Intrigued, Tracy pulled the nearest book to her and opened to the page he was on. It was a brief family history of the main line of Potters, going back 8 generations. Each name included the date that he or she lived.

"Ok, you did miss lunch, you know that, right?" she asked. Harry shrugged, pointing to a book to his left. She grabbed that one, pulling it over. This had a list with no pictures, stating the family head and their son or daughter, for the past couple thousand years. She noticed a small mark, probably made by Harry.

"Notice the gap?" he asked. She frowned, seeing it. A period of about 300 years had no Potter alive. The last one was James Archibald Potter, died 1237, followed by an Archibald Hendrick Potter being born in 1589. That was 352 years of no family.

"I checked what little the library had, even asking the librarian for help. There are no detailed family trees outside of the restricted section. Doesn't that seem strange?" At that moment, Daphne, with her hair billowing behind her, stepped into the small alcove in the history section inhabited by the other two first years.

"There you are! Lunch ends in a half hour! Come on!"

* * *

><p>Lunch, Harry learned, was going to be a problem. No matter what he did, the other tables saw fit to stare at him.<p>

The Griffindors, specifically all but a few rallying behind a red head first year and a blond next to him, were glaring at him like he was a blight upon the earth. Harry found himself shrinking into his seat, hoping he could just disappear. Their glares were all too familiar of what he got at the Dursly household.

The Ravenclaw table were merely curious about him. Apparently the Potter lineage was known for being a strict Gryffindor family. Honestly, Harry wasn't sure how they didn't get a migrane from all the red and gold. He found, even after a short while, the green and silver of Slytherin a much more soothing, calm color to be around. Common room was sort of cold though.

Hufflepuff was looking between him and the red head boy who was rallying the Gryffindor table, nervous glances on their face. Probably because they were between them as a house, both location wise and loyalty wise. Hufflepuff was long known to hold a study group for all houses. A few braver students crossed the lines from the rival houses, but this year would be all the more difficult.

And finally, Slytherin table. There was a strict divide between the two of them. On the one hand, a faction led by a 5th year named Terence Higgs. The figure head of their faction was Harry himself, fully supporting him in their house, saying it might be just the thing to bring them out of the hate zone.

The other side, led by a dark haired first year. He was using his father's position in the DMLE to influence students into believing that Harry was a 'half-blood' sullying the name of Slytherin. This group included a few of the darker families, but not all. Fortunately, Harry found himself in friendly Slytherin territory, stuffed near the far end with Daphne to his left and Tracy on the other side.

He was quietly eating a sandwich as the most uncomfortable lunch in the history of the school passed by. Tracy was eating some fruit, while Daphne was drinking some pumpkin juice.

A quick glance around informed Harry that a good portion of the great hall was staring at him, or in his direction. Harry quickly finished his meal, grabbing his books.

"I'm going to go back to the library until class starts, is that ok?" he asked. He wasn't entirely sure why he was whispering, but speaking loudly might be a bad thing.

Daphne nodded, finishing her drink. "I'll join you," she whispered back. Tracy just shrugged.

"I'm going to finish my meal. I'll see you in the common room?" Daphne nodded, quickly latching onto Harry's arm, much to his shock, again. She led the black haired Slytherin out of the great hall, where a collective sigh of air escaped.

* * *

><p>Harry sat on the small sofa in his room, a half dozen books spread out before him. Two of them detailed his family history before and after the gap, while the rest were history on the 350 years between the Potter generations. Daphne had been helping him, but like any 11 year old girl, she quickly drifted to other things, mainly writing her name with her wand in misty white letters. Tracy was lying on the bed, snoring softly.<p>

"Hmm," muttered Harry, looking at the book. Daphne, broken from her writing, looked at the boy.

"Find something interesting in those dusty old books?" she asked. Harry nodded, a little peeved at them being called dusty old books. They were the only thing he knew that held information on his family.

"Sort of," he replied, quickly. "At some point during this span of time, there was a dark lord. He had the title of worst dark lord in existence, right up until You-Know-Who came into power." This got Daphne interested.

"Oh, and who was this dark lord?" she asked, walking over across his small room.

"He went by the name 'Szarekh.' All that's known is he opposed the Ministry. He almost whipped out several families that had close ties to the Ministry, only missing them by one or two members. The hardest hit was the Dumbledore family." This brought a pause to the speaking.

"As in, the headmaster Dumbledore?" she asked. Harry nodded, pointing to a roll of parchment. It was a public copy of the Dumbledore family tree, showing a startling lack of generation between then and now.

"He fought for over 200 years, but vanished from the earth, supposedly dying from old age." Harry flipped pages, seeing nothing more on the Dark lord Szarekh.

Tracy, in her brilliance, brought up a valid question, having awoken to the last part. "What does 'Szarekh' mean?" Daphne frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused. Harry looked at the blue eyed girl.

"Well, You-Know-Who's name is French for 'flight of death.' It gave the appeal that he was immortal." Daphne tilted her head at her best friend. She was never this clever. Tracy grinned.

"I heard my dad talking about it!" Daphne nodded. Mystery solved.

"I'm... not sure," replied Harry, flipping through a few pages. After a few minutes of searching with the girl's help, he found nothing.

He leaned back into the soft leather sofa, his 11 year old body unable to keep up with the day's events.

Daphne walked towards the door, intent on heading back to her room. When she tried the door, she found it locked.

"Curses," she said, Tracy looking over. "Curfew is in effect, locking us in until morning." Tracy nodded before scooping Harry up.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Tracy just smiled, carrying the extremely light sleeping boy over to the bed, laying him down in the center. She plopped herself down beside, latching onto an arm. She motioned towards Daphne to do the same. With a shrug, the raven haired girl joined the two first years on the bed, latching onto his other arm.

* * *

><p>[A.N.] That's it folks! Sorry it's such a long chapter, but the review, as you can see in the response section, just plane skewed the chapter. (teehee!) I've already gotten chapter 5 almost done, and it's a good deal longer. I'll start advancing the plot then. So far I've decided to canon it up until the end of first year, then we'll start to turn. Hopefully by the end of second year we'll be developing our own story, with canon as reference. I'll also start throwing up polls, but I'll announce them. They'll help determine major plot changes.<p> 


	5. A New Member

Chapter 4! Now, I didn't really find anything worthy of noting for a reviewer note, except that slytherin84 is to thank for catching my error with Draco in the Slytherin table. I'm sure I fixed that now. With nothing much left to say, let's finish this AN!

On with the story.

* * *

><p>The sun was shining, beating downwards onto the Quidditch pitch. In the stands were mostly Slytherin greens and Gryffindor red and gold colors shining. It was the opening game of the season and the two teams had the honor of starting.<p>

Harry was in the stands, Daphne and Tracy hanging off of his arms. He wasn't sure why they did it, god knows he had spent countless hours trying to figure out the dynamic since that morning he woke up in his own bed with them.

The announcer declared the beginning of the game, Madam Hooch throwing the ball into the air. Immediately, the chasers began to fly around, passing and intercepting the ball while avoiding the flying black balls being smacked around by brutish kids with large arms.

"And that's 10 points to Gryffindor!" cried the announcer. Harry knew the basics of the game, but he didn't find it interesting as a full time thing. At the moment, it was this or charms homework.

"So Harry, who do you think will win?" asked Tracy, lazily watching the chasers fly around with the ball. Gryffindor scored another 20 points, while Slytherin scored 10.

"I'm not sure," he replied, somewhat tired. Through September and this week of October, Harry, Daphne and Tracy had been investigating the timeline of his family absence and the Dark Lord that fought the ministry. Unfortunately, information was scarce, right up to the point of being nonexistent. The information in the books he had found was a fluke.

Daphne pointed out at one of the teacher stands. "Isn't that Professor Snape?" she asked, pointing to a flurry of black robes. Harry and Tracy squinted.

"Yeh, is he fighting Professor Quirrel?" Sure enough, there was a flash of orange light and Professor Snape fell, falling down the seats a little. A couple of the other teachers stunned the DADA teacher.

Harry watched with interest as the head of house was woken before being led away. He was shocked out of his concentration when the Slytherin stands erupted into fanfare when Terrance Higgs caught the snitch, ending the game 200 – 50.

* * *

><p>Harry, surprisingly without the girls, was walking down the hall, somewhat deep in thought. Two days had passed since the attack during the game, and he had finally come to a conclusion: Quirrel was not who he appeared to be.<p>

There was something wrong with him, like every move he made was being watched and scrutinized. His constant stutter was something he remembered from his days in the Dursly household. He used to stutter, but, going true with Dursly methods, enough beating will get rid of anything.

He was walking through the halls when he realized he was nowhere near the Slytherin common rooms. In fact, the subtle but present reds on the tapestries were a good clue in as to what section of the castle he was in.

"Back off," echoed a voice. Harry perked up, hearing it just several feet to his left. Behind a tapestry.

"And who's going to make us?" asked a voice. Harry scowled. It was Ronald Weasly. Usually, and to the delight of most of Hogwarts, Harry was a nice mannered student, if a bit quiet. But when Ronald came into the picture, all bets were off. He had repeatedly called him the next dark lord, a filthy Slytherin half-blood, and a large variety of curses and insults directed at his two friends.

"Ron, are you sure we should be doing this?" asked a somewhat timid boy. Harry frowned. He didn't sound like Finnigan.

"Please, she's a dirty snake, she has no rights." Ahh, there was the Irish kid. Not wanting to let a fellow Slytherin suffer, Harry drew his black ebony wand, using a wind charm to lift the end of the tapestry.

Inside were four occupants. First, there was Weasly, red hair blazing like a bad birds nest. Next to him, the brown haired Irish kid, one of the Weasel's cohorts. Surprisingly, the quiet kid in Herbology that dominated the class, Neville Longbottom was there. He was obviously not sure about the situation.

The fourth person, wearing green Slytherin robes, about his height and age, stood pressed against the wall. Her wand was lying behind the group, a nice greenish blue color. She also had bubblegum pink hair, spiking in the back.

"Potter!" growled Ron, training his wand on Harry. While he did have his wand out, he wasn't an instigator by any stretch of the imagination.

"I should hex you right here, nobody would know," sneered the redhead. Harry had to wonder where the kid got his hate from. Most of the school liked the timid Slytherin celebrity.

"Come on, surely we can just leave her alone, can't we?" asked Harry. Neville looked thoughtful, considering the idea. Ronald and Seamus were of other minds.

"No, we'll hex the two of you and leave you behind this tapestry, let you rot here!" Neville frowned, even the most zealous of Griffindors weren't that against Harry. At most they didn't like to talk about him.

Harry tightened his grip. As a first year, they didn't know much about any real offensive spells. What could be constituted as a harmful spell was currently an overpowered tickling charm. Quirrel was responsible for that.

In the end, Ron struck first.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ The wand movement was precise, but the spell hadn't even been practiced in class. Harry, remembering something a 6th year was doing in the common room, decided to try it. After all, if it didn't work, what did it matter? He could tickle the crap out of the red head, literally! There were horror stories from other first and second years.

"_Stupify!"_ He flicked his wand, aiming the end at Ron. A bright stream of red light flew at the boy, striking him in the arm. He crumpled, snoring. Harry stood, shocked. He glanced at his wand, then at Ron, then back to the wand, then at Seamus, pointing it.

He wildly aimed it at the boy, causing him to squeal and run. Neville just grabbed Ron and dragged him away.

Seeing the odd trio leave, Harry turned to the girl. He remembered her faintly, mostly as somebody everyone called the clumsy first year.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry, putting his wand away. The girl nodded, retrieving her wand.

"Names Tonks," she said, holding out a hand. He reached for it, but not before it happened. It started in his arm, an obvious shaking. He gripped it, breathing deeply and forcing himself to calm down. He wasn't sure why, but this always happened when he did anything to help someone. He squeezed his arm, the shaking slowly subsiding.

"You ok?" she asked. He nodded, taking several deep breaths.

"Yeh, just... not feeling great," he replied. She nodded, not quite believing. He was relived when she moved onto another topic.

"So, you're Harry Potter?" He nodded. "I'll admit, your quite the conversation starter. More than a few think you're an upcoming dark lord. Ginger there the most." Harry smiled, hand on the back of his head nervously.

"Yeh, I don't really know what's wrong with him, but he keeps saying those things. I've learned to mostly ignore them." Tonks nodded.

"So, what were you doing in this section of the school?" asked the pink haired girl. Harry frowned.

"I could ask the same of you. A better question is how two Slytherins ended up deep in Gryffindor territory." Tonks nodded thoughtfully.

"I got lost. Two left feet and no sense of direction my mother told me. I have to agree with her." The two began walking towards the great hall.

"I was actually thinking about other things. Lost track of where I was going," he replied. Tonks nodded. The two walked towards the great hall, learning about each other. Harry found she was one of the few people in Slytherin who didn't care if Harry was dark, light or both, just as long as they didn't have to choose. Despite her mother being in Hufflepuff, she was sorted into Slytherin for one reason.

Pranking.

She was a demon when it came to pranking, having completely pranked her Muggle neighborhood including her mother for 2 years before they knew it was her. It was the secrecy that helped.

Tonks learned quite a bit about Harry too. She learned that Quirrel was a suspicious character. When Harry told her of the fight, she was shocked, not having seen it. They speculated what it could have meant, ranging from a simple argument to lovers breaking up. She also learned, albit briefly, about how Harry thought Dumbledore was manipulating him, from his wand to his house placement.

When they arrived in the Slytherin common room, he was tackled by two raven haired girls, one with waist length hair, and one with shorter shoulder length.

"Harry! Where were you!" cried Daphne. It was the outburst of emotions like these that Harry liked. For some reason, in the presence of others, she had adopted a cool indifferent mask. When Harry asked her why, she just shook her head, saying she would explain later.

Tracy tackled him, landing him on a couch. "We were worried! Dinner ended an hour ago and you said we would study in your room!" Harry apologized.

"Sorry girls, I was wandering when I rescued Tonks here." To this, Harry pointed towards the bubble gum pink haired girl, who waved.

"Wotcher, names Tonks," she replied, smiling.

* * *

><p>Tonks quickly joined the trio as a fourth member, making what was once referred to as the Slytherin trio to the Snakes Company. Nobody was sure where the name came from, but the members of this small group weren't complaining.<p>

They were currently leaving charms, having, for the first time in class, attempted the _Wingardium Leviosa_ charm on feathers. Harry had managed it, as well with Daphne, Tracy and Tonks, who was sporting violent orange hair. That was another secret, she was a metamorphous, a shape shifter. At her age, she could do facial features and hair without damaging her body. Only when puberty was done could she do changes to anything with safety.

Ahead of them was the familiar form of Ronald Weasly, with the blond ponce Draco Malfoy. They were, oddly, good friends. Probably united in their hatred for Harry.

"And she goes, 'its _Wingardium Leviosa, _not _Leviosaa!'_ Honestly, it's a wonder she has no friends," stated the ginger, almost shouting it to the world. The blond idiot and the red head dumbass continued going on and on about how they were purebloods and as such were better than other. Harry noticed a girl with bushy brown hair and the blue robes of Ravenclaw rushed by, crying. Harry frowned. Was she the girl he was talking about?

Daphne was hanging off his left arm, while Tracy on his right. Tonks had taken to hanging off of Harry as well, opting to wrap her arms around his neck and lean on his back. Suffice to say, any thoughts of crying Ravenclaw students were banished when she adjusted her position.

"Tell me, why am I a human coat hanger?" he asked, leading them towards the library. Daphne shrugged.

"I don't know, probably because you do it so well." Harry frowned.

"What, you telling me you don't like three beautiful women using you for their personal use?" asked Tonks. Harry's face turned crimson, scowling at the statement.

"It's not that, it's that it can be very tiring." Tracy giggled.

"Poor Harry, forced to enjoy the company of three beautiful girls who think the world of him," she laughed. The other's giggled, Harry rolling his eyes at being subjected to this.

"So, is there anything happening for Halloween?" asked Tonks. What she was really asking was if they were doing anything in Harry's room that night that was remotely special.

It had been a regular thing now, even with Tonks in the mix, to do their homework in his room around the small table there. With them in all the same classes made it easier. After that they would possibly play cards for a while, before all sleeping on or in Harry's bed. In all honesty, he wasn't sure how it ended up like that, but all four of them ended up sleeping in his king sized bed. At first, they just slept above the sheets, in their clothes, but some unspoken agreement led to them sleeping in his bed. In fact, last week, at some silent command, they all moved their trunks into his room, it magically supplying benches along the empty wall beside the bed.

"No, I think it'll be a regular evening. It's only Halloween." Tonks nodded, her chin digging into his collar bone. The Slytherin company continued across the courtyard, classes being over. A stiff breeze blew through the air, promising a harsh winter with lots of snow. It was not unnoticed that the girls clung tighter, using his body to fend off the cold.

* * *

><p>Harry sat at the Slytherin table, the girls near him. Tonight, Tracy was beside him, while Daphne and Tonks were opposite. They were midway through the Halloween feast when, as the Muggle saying was, the shit hit the fan.<p>

Through the doors of the hall charged Professor Quirrel, robes slightly torn and with a wild look in his eye.

"TROLL!" he screamed, running the length of the great hall. He stopped in front of the teacher's table.

"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!" He spun about, Harry's scar hurting slightly when he made eye contact. It lasted only a brief second before he continued to spin, facing the table again.

"Thought you should know," he mumbled, before falling flat on his face, limbs sprawled out at varying angles. The man was clearly out.

Students started screaming, jumping out of their seats and running for the doors, heedless of the differences of houses.

"SILENCE!" Everyone came to a standstill when Dumbledore shouted his command.

"Better," he smiled. "Prefects, please escort the students to their dorms. Teachers, follow me." The older students took charge, reigning in their houses and leading them to the separate areas of the castle.

The company was halfway there when Tonks remembered something.

"Hey, did the Ravenclaw's know about their missing person?" Harry, Daphne and Tracy looked at her confused.

"I heard some students talking about a Ravenclaw girl crying in the bathroom during the feast. Helps when your table is next to them."

The four were silent. "We should probably go find her," stated Tracy. Harry nodded. With the metamorphous leading, they arrived at the bathroom, with no sign of a Troll.

"Hmm, no Troll," remarked Daphne. Tracy and Tonks were going to agree when Harry pressed them against the wall, shushing them. Tracy was going to complain when she heard it.

The thick, meaty slap of flesh on stone, a repetitive slapping sound. It was originating from the end of the hallway. Looking, the four of them gasped.

Standing 10 feet tall was a large grey mountain Troll, brown tattered leather vest on with a large tree acting as a club. As it stepped, the meaty smack filled the halls.

"Quickly, in in in !" whispered Harry, opening the door to the bathroom. They shuffled in, quickly closing the door.

_Sniff sniff._

Harry whipped around at the sound, seeing one stall open. In it, just walking out, was the bushy haired girl from the courtyard in blue trimmed robes.

"Wh-what ar-are you d-doing h-h-here?" she stuttered, eyes red from crying, tear tracks going down her face. Tonks spoke.

"Well, the dolt Quirrel ran into the feast, screaming about a Troll. I remembered some Ravenclaw's saying you were missing, so I suggested we find you." The girl nodded.

"What's your name?" asked Tracy. The girl looked at her.

"Hermione," she whispered. "Hermione Granger." Further conversation was cut off when the door exploded inwards, a tree following. Crashing through stone and mortar was the Troll from before, a particularly menacing look in its dumb eyes.

It lifted its massive club, bringing it down on the group of students. Harry pushed Hermione away while jumping in the opposite direction. Tonks, Daphne and Tracy followed quickly, going in opposite directions. Well, they tried to. Tonks slipped on tile, head smacking against the ground. A small spray of blood and she was out.

Harry turned around, pulling out his ebony wand.

"_Stupify!"_ The red bolt flew forth, striking the Troll in the chest. It stumbled, movements sluggish.

"Hit it with _Stupify_!" shouted Harry. Shortly after rescuing Tonks, he had taught the three girls the 4th year spell, mastering it with some help from a 5th year who liked the idea of The-Boy-Who-Lived being in Slytherin.

Three more bolts of red plasma like magic flew, striking the troll in the arm, chest and face. It slowed down considerably, doing this thing with its fingers, clenching them and unclenching them. Another two bolts struck its face, while the third, belonging to Harry, missed marginally. He had to work on his aim.

Fortunately, that did it, sending the beast into the sweet confines of sleep. It swayed on its feet, club falling onto the stalls, cracking the walls and crushing the fine porcelain beneath. It swayed further, tipping to the left. Harry looked at where it was going to fall, and noticed with horror that a bleeding and unconscious Tonks was there.

Jumping to his feet, he ran forward, grabbing the back of her robes. He swung her as best as he could, the tiles underneath her providing some sort of frictionless surface, allowing her to move. He dived right, just missing being crushed by two tones of grey flesh and leather.

Dust settled, revealing the chaos. A destroyed door and doorframe, destroyed floor, destroyed toilets, destroyed stalls, broken tile, a bleeding and unconscious Tonks, and a laundry list of other damages.

"What in blazes is going on in here?" screamed a Scottish voice. Harry turned to see professor McGonagall charge in. Behind her was Professor Snape and Quirrel, followed by a somewhat obvious trail of blood.

* * *

><p>Christmas rolled around, snow falling from the sky in thick blankets. The lake froze over, causing the Slytherin dorms to be colder than normal. Ghosts prowled the halls, singing carols, while the suits of armor sung along when they passed. Trees lined the great hall, gold, silver, blue and sunny yellow decorations covered them.<p>

Harry was currently lying in his bed, with Tonks, Daphne and Tracy in with him. Once again, he was completely dumfounded when he tried to come to the conclusion as to why his room was now the room for three girls and a boy. To his left was Daphne, wearing a black silk shirt with matching pants, with green trim. To his right, gripping his arm like Daphne, Tracy had white version with green trim, while Tonks, who's residency was now officially on _top _of Harry, had a deep forest green nightgown.

On the one hand, he liked the sleeping arrangement. He felt safe, secure, protected. His friends were there, everything was ok. On the other hand, he really had to pee. Finding he had the ability to move his head, he looked towards the tree beside the fire. Imagine his shock when he saw a large variety of gifts, wrapped in different colored paper, all underneath the tree.

"People, wake up," commanded Harry, trying to sound authoritative. All he got was a smack in the head from Daphne, a mumble from Tonks, and a groan from Tracy, who found herself waking up.

"Harry?" she mumbled, using a free hand to rub her eyes. Harry grinned.

"Can you help me get Tonks off of me? I need to pee." To this, Tonks replied, still somewhat asleep.

"But Harrryyyy! You're so warm, like a space heater," she smiled. Tracy, having been raised with Daphne in a pureblood environment, furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's a space heater?" she asked, confused. Harry sighed.

"A Muggle invention. A machine that does the same thing as a heating charm, but to a smaller area. It's used to heat rooms in lieu of central heating, which can be compared to a fireplace." Tracy nodded. Remembering Harry had to pee, she helped Harry out.

Grabbing the edge of Tonks' nightgown, she rolled the metamorphous onto herself, leaving Harry to contend with Daphne gripping his arm. He innocently poked her forehead, waking her.

"Daphne, I need to pee, can you let go?" She grumbled, but let the first year go. Harry eagerly jumped out of the bed, racing towards the bathroom.

When he returned, he saw the girls were awake, wearing the Slytherin housecoat, a soft, plushy green and silver robe that magically kept closed.

"Well, since that's settled, shall we open gifts?" asked Daphne. In agreement, they jumped over to the Tree, Tonks handing the gifts out to everyone.

Daphne had very little in the way of gifts, only one from her sister and one from her mother. She got a set of expensive looking quills with endless ink charms, and a scarf with her name on it.

Tracy got more. From her father, she got a book on darker magic usually reserved for 4th years and above. From her mother, she got a sweater, made with acromantula silk. It was black with a white snake around the bottom. Her grandmother sent her several boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

Tonks got a box of Muggle style click pens, much to her and Harry's enjoyment. She also received a book on Muggle espionage and secrecy, to help with her future endeavors of pranking.

Harry had a gift from a random person, along with various candies from a few students that he knew in Slytherin house.

"What's that package?" asked Tonks, munching on a few of the beans. Harry grabbed the silver wrapped package. Frowning, he pulled the soft package onto his lap.

There was no paper, just string wrapped around the silvery paper. Wasting no time, he tore the paper off, revealing a dark silvery cloak.

"Well, that's a fancy cloak. Don't see the purpose of it," stated Tonks. Harry shrugged, grabbing the edges.

"Might as well see what it looks like," he replied, twirling the fabric around his shoulders and wrapping it around his neck. Tonks dropped the beans.

"That's an invisibility cloak!" exclaimed Daphne, pointing at him. Harry looked down, immediately shocked when he realized he was a floating head. The metaphorical light bulb appeared above Harry.

"Hey! I can use this to find out what Quirrel is up to!" The girls agreed, but only on the condition that he waited until night to do it.

* * *

><p>And That's the chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, I know I did. Once I powered through that last one, this was much easier. I find a mix of Warhammer 40K painting, The Beatles and Fanfiction readingtyping makes it easy to come up with the ideas.

Now, in your reviews, I kindly ask for your opinion on bringing Tonks into the fold. I plan to throw the cap on the number now, leaving it an HP/DG/TD/NT story. Yeh, it's a bit much, but hey, I like them all. I would like your honest opinion in the reviews.

I am still looking for a Beta. PM me for details.


	6. The Invisibility Cloak Adventures

And Chapter 6 people! Glad we've made it here! Now, because we're so close, I'm stipulating this rule. Once this story get's 100 reviews, the next chapter shall be 8K words. That's right, without the AN, you'll have an 8K word chapter. It will most likely, depending when it happens, make a good intro for year 2, or an epic finale for year one. Now, the largest question seen is what to do with Hermione. Adding her to the group is impossible, in the way I want. She'll be nothing more than a friend, but don't worry, I've got a pairing for her. It'll blow your minds. But, as they say:

On with the story.

* * *

><p>Christmas holidays passed, students slowly returning as the first day of classes drew near. Harry was in the library with Tonks, looking up information on invisibility cloaks. He hadn't used his yet, so he wanted to learn the limitations of one before actually using it. He had hoped that his friends, particularly Daphne, might have known how they worked, but apparently all four of them didn't know anything about an invisibility cloak.<p>

So, here he was, with Tonks sitting next to him, looking through a book with a reference to invisibility cloaks. He was currently reading through an aging history book on the subject, paying particular attention to the fact that a Potter, Damien Potter, born some 200 years ago, was seen with one when fighting terrorists.

Tonks meanwhile, had found something interesting. "Harry, do you know anything about the Hallows?" Harry looked up, confused.

"No, is that something shorter for a holiday?" Tonks gaped, before remembering.

"Right, Muggle raised. It's a wizarding story, usually told to children. It's actually interesting and might have some reference to your cloak." Harry frowned.

"What's the story then?" Tonks smiled, morphing her vocal cords so her voice was slightly deeper.

"Long ago there were three brothers. They were traveling when they came upon a river. All the previous travellers had died trying to cross it. Instead, they used magic to conjure a bridge of ivy across. When they got half way, they were stopped by Death."

"He was furious that he had been cheated of his prize, but, being Death, was cunning. He offered the three brothers a deal. For besting him, he would grant each one a gift." Harry gulped. This was a childs story?

"The oldest asked for the most powerful wand in existence. So, Death plucked a branch from a tree and gave it to the oldest brother. The second brother, he asked for the ability to bring back those who he loved from Death's domain. Death reached down and plucked a rock from the river, giving it to the brother."

"What about the third brother?" asked Harry. Tonks scowled.

"Don't rush me! I'm trying to make it sound mysterious!" she exclaimed, still using the deeper voice.

"As I was saying," she growled. "The third brother asked for a cloak that would hide him from Death's embrace as long as he wore it. Grudgingly, Death cut part of his own robe and gave it to the brother. The oldest brother immediately found his rival, before besting him in a duel. He flaunted the power of his wand, drinking himself asleep. Unfortunately, in the dead of the night, a young boy killed the brother, taking his wand." Now Harry was shocked. How was this a bedtime story for kids?

"The second brother proceeded home, where he brought his dead sister to the living realm. However, she was not meant for this world any longer, so her body decayed until there was nothing left to bring back. He hung himself in shame."

"Alright, how in Merlin's name is this a children's story?" all but shouted Harry. Tonks frowned.

"I dunno, but mom used to tell me it. Dad asked the same question, him being a Muggle and all." Harry frowned, but asked her to continue.

"The third brother used the cloak to hide from Death for many years, until he was very old with a child of his own. He gave his cloak to his son and went with Death willingly. Death had finally claimed the brothers."

"And... you think mine might be the actual cloak mentioned in this story?" he asked skeptically. Tonks nodded.

"Look, these books say that even the best of the cloaks have some flaw, either being a slight distortion, easy to tear, brightly colored, anything can go wrong with them and still be effective. Yours, based on our small tests, is far better. The invisibility is seamless, it's richly decorated and even stepping on it didn't tear it." Harry winced at that.

Shortly into their tests of the cloak, Harry had tripped on the edge, falling forwards onto the table. While under the cloak, he had used his hands to stop the fall, but was sure something was torn. Sure enough, there wasn't even dirt on it.

"I don't know, to think it's Death's invisibility cloak is a bit of a stretch." Tonks frowned.

"Well, I said it was a guess. Not like I'm all knowing." Harry saw her frown and gave her a hug.

"Sorry, but it just seemed a bit far-fetched, your forgetting, I'm the kid who was punished for even having an imagination." Tonks laughed a bit at that, before adopting a questioning look.

"You haven't really told us about your life growing up. I'm sure Daphne and Tracy would love to hear life growing up as the 'savior' of the wizarding world, even among muggles." Harry smiled sadly.

Whenever the girls had mentioned his fame at all, it was in a joking manner. Despite his short time with it, he was already disliking it. It was nice to see a group of people who liked him for him. Hell, a group of people who liked him period.

"I-umm," Harry took an interest in the books on the table suddenly. Despite his friends helping him through any lingering doubts of fear of other people, his time in that hellish household had scarred him. He was certain those attacks he sometimes had, forcing his body into mild convulsions, was a by product of all the abuse. He didn't like to talk about it, or even try to remember it.

"Perhaps some other time," he stated, avoiding the subject. Tonks frowned, her eyes narrowing.

"You will tell us Harry James Potter, or we shall be forced to get the answer from you." He recoiled slightly at the ultimatum, but he could see the mischievousness in her eyes. No wonder why she was sorted into Slytherin.

"Oh my god is that Snape in blue?" cried Harry, pointing behind her. Tonks twirled around, honestly expecting their head of house to be there in blue robes, a far cry from his usual black. Upset that she had missed the scene, she turned around...

Only to find no Harry.

* * *

><p>Harry slumped against a wall, after having run through countless corridors. He was running from, and he was ashamed to admit it, his friends. Since his encounter with Tonks in the library two weeks ago, the three girls had made it their mission to capture him and interrogate him. The first few nights weren't so bad, even with them sleeping in his bed, but after that they grew more and more persistent. It had come to the point where he had actually told them to sleep in their own rooms. That was three days ago.<p>

Starting that night, the nightmares came.

Brutal re-enactments of his time at the Dursly household, encompassing the most brutal 'punishments' his 'family' had to offer. The worst though, the worst was when they burned his arm.

The second night he tried to fall asleep, but true sleep would not come. Instead, it was small, 20 minute segments of nightmare after nightmare. It was one of the longest nights in his life.

The second day was long, with him dodging his friends, wanting to keep his secrets. It was difficult, but he skipped lunch and dinner and hid out in the top of the astronomy tower. The hunger and the cold was nothing new, so he was ok.

The third night and day were much the same, just longer and more horrifying in the nightmares. Towards the evening, he was actually seeing things. This did not register to be something to see the nurse about.

So here he was, fourth day with little sleep, almost no food, and running from his friends, or at least where he thought they weren't. With a loud creak, the door opened, revealing the astronomy tower's highest point. There was a bench with a blanket he managed to transfigure on it. Wearily, he sat down, gripping his arm. It was shaking slightly, phantom burns keeping him awake.

"Harry?" called a voice. He didn't respond. Inside his head, he knew the jig was up. There was nothing he could do, short of jump off the tower or blow through his friends.

"Harry, you don't look good," called the voice again. Harry realized it belonged to Tracy.

"It's just me, Tracy. Tonks is searching the library and Daphne is in the Great Hall." She stepped in front of Harry, kneeling. Looking into his eyes, she saw outright fear cross them.

"What happened?" she asked, sitting next to him. Harry gave a cold laugh.

"Everything. I don't know what the books say my life was like, but I can guarantee it wasn't like that." She frowned, placing her arm around him. Soft clanking behind her told her someone had arrived. She glanced quickly, surprised it was Hermione, the shy Ravenclaw who sometimes hung out with them.

"The Dursly's, that's their name. I was sent to live there when my parents were killed." He chuckled darkly. "I wanted to die. So many times I wanted to die," he murmured. Tracy, and Hermione, gasped. How could a kid as nice mannered as Harry want to die? Surely people must love him?

"My aunt, she never liked my mother. Called her a freak, an abomination. I guess that hate she had for her sister was just moved to me. Vernon, her husband, and Dudley, the child, picked up on that hate." He rubbed his arm, Tracy looking at it. She had noticed early on he rubbed it when he was stressed or worried, or after going into one of his fits.

"In short, and you Hermione should know, being muggleborn, I was abused." Hermione gasped. While being only eleven years old, her parents never tried to turn her away from knowledge. An excursion to the library had informed her on the horrors of child abuse.

"From as soon as I could walk, I was beaten, burnt, worked like a pack animal. If I didn't have my magic, I would have died several times over. It took days to heal, but any injury would be gone. When I was 6, I spilt eggs for Vernon's breakfast on the table." He shuddered, gripping his arm tightly.

"He... he held my arm... over _fire._ Burnt it to the bone," he sobbed, tears spilling. Hermione had long since sat down next to him and leaned against him, while Tracy had her arm wrapped around.

"Again, it only took a few days to heal, where I was put back to work," he continued, body shuddering every few breaths.

Shortly before I turned 11," he continued, somewhat calmer. "A goblin came to the house. That was the last time I was in that house," he muttered, staring at the grate beneath.

Tracy, without warning, dived into a full blown hug. "I'm sorry!" She chanted that a few more times, letting the first year savior cry into her shoulder.

"We- we shouldn't have p-p-pressured y-you in-to running," she cried. Hermione, while not having such an attachment to Harry, still got into the group hug.

"Don't worry, I'll write to my parents. They might be able to cause some trouble with them," she replied. Harry smiled faintly.

It took several minutes, but Tracy finally had to state the obvious. "Listen, Harry, you haven't eaten for a while. Let's head down to the hall. You get something to eat and I'll tell Daphne and Tonks what you told me, Kay?" Harry nodded, feeling emotionally spent.

* * *

><p>A moth passed, and the group of friends were entering March.<p>

After having explained to Daphne and Tonks the situation with Harry and how he grew up, they immediately felt guilty. For several days, Harry only had the company of Tracy, and sometimes Hermione, when she didn't have classes with the 'Puffs. When they did come to apologize, Harry countered.

"No, it was my fault. I should have just told you," he relented.

"No, we shouldn't have pushed you into telling us," replied Daphne, embracing him outside the great hall. Tonks replied in a similar fashion, hugging him as well.

With the group back on track, they had spent the month laying down plans to track Quirrel and find out what he was doing. Those culminated to what he was doing now.

The professor, purple robes and Turban, was walking down the hall with a purpose. He displayed none of the usual habits everyone saw, instead walking tall and proud. Harry was beneath his invisibility cloak, stepping quietly in his socks, to minimize noise.

Harry almost yelped when the wraithlike figure of Severus Snape, the head of Slytherin, charged out through a door near the end of the hall. Wasting no time, the Professor grabbed Quirrel by the robes and slammed him against the wall.

"Severus!" squealed the professor, recoiling at the presence of the man. "I – I thought-"

"Silence," commanded Snape. Harry wasn't sure how he did it, but he could silence an entire room with nothing but a glare.

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrel," he continued. Harry was confused. Just what were the two professors going on about?

"W-what do you m-mean?" stuttered the professor. For some reason, he had reverted back to his mannerisms from before.

"You know perfectly well what I..." The professor stopped, looking around. To his horror, his gaze settled on Harry's invisible form. He slowly reached out, hand almost touching the fabric. It recoiled, now being used to jab an index finger in Quirrel's face.

"We'll have another chat soon... when you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie." Snape twirled away in one direction, leaving the defence professor to shake. What Harry thought was odd was he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of something. Apparently finished, he stood up and bolted away down the hall.

Harry watched him go, instead deciding to see what Professor Snape was doing in that room. Glancing down the hallway, he made sure he was the only one there. Satisfied, he walked in, the door creaking like the devil's string band.

It was a classroom, abandoned, covered in dust, with chairs and desks piled in the corner. Long windows let in blue moonlight, illuminating the only object of value.

A large mirror, with a heavy brass frame, age showing near the edges. Script was emblazoned across the top, looking strange compared to English. Harry slowly walked up to it, looking into the depths.

"Mom..." he uttered, the sound barely more than a whisper, quiet enough that the old man in the corner did not hear. For in the mirror, Harry Potter saw his family.

Two people, standing side by side, holding each other lovingly. The woman had dark red hair, fair skin and brilliant green eyes. The man, looking much like Harry, albeit younger, had messy black hair and brown mischievous eyes. His mother's hand was on his shoulder, but when his real hand went to touch it, all he felt was his shoulder. He glanced up at the engraving, making sense of it.

_I show not your face, but your hearts greatest desire._

"The Mirror... of Erised," intoned a voice. Harry spun around, seeing the figure of Dumbledore.

"It shows us, not as we are, but what we hope to be," he continued. Inwardly he was smirking. All he had to do was figure out what the boy saw, then he could play events better to his favor.

Harry didn't fully trust the Professor. With multiple reasons to distrust him, a few from Ollivander, one from the Hat, he kept his guard up.

"So, it shows us our greatest want?" he asked, hoping to sound simple, like the Gryffindor he wanted. Pleased that Harry answered as he did, the headmaster continued.

"Not quite. You see Harry, it shows us our heart's greatest desire, the one thing we want above all else. Only in rare circumstances can this desire actually come true. As it stands, it can devour even the most sane and selfless wizard insane, trying to get lost in those depths." Harry glanced back at the mirror, seeing his mother and father standing there. His eyes furrowed when he saw, far behind them, a smoky outline.

"Perhaps you should be going back to class Mr. Potter?" asked the aging Headmaster. Harry nodded, looking once more at the mirror. Still looking at it, he threw the cloak around him, stepping outside and heading for the Slytherin common rooms.

Dumbledore stood in the corner, smiling, a twinkle in his eye. "Perfect," he spoke.

* * *

><p>When he arrived back in his room, having slipped past the portrait, he was tackled by three first year witches. Tonks crushed him first, her hair a vibrant green color. Daphne struck second, throwing the mass to the left, while Tracy toppled them towards the bed.<p>

"Oww," muttered Harry, having been impacted three times.

"So, did you find anything?" asked Tonks, her hair shifting to a deep blue.

"Well," began Harry, his voice becoming suave and enticing... for an 11 year old. "Quirrel is not the nervous git we all think he is. Apparently he and Professor Snape are at odds ends. My best guess is Quirrel is hiding something. Doesn't hurt to mention my scar hurts whenever I'm near him." The girls looked at him thoughtfully.

"We could ask Hermione about it. She's good with information, perhaps she could pull something up?"

"Perfect!" cried Tracy. "We'll talk to her tomorrow." With that agreed, Harry hopped into his pajamas and got into bed. Tracy hopped on his left, Tonks on his right, while Daphne claimed being on top of him.

* * *

><p>Hermione was reading a book at the Ravenclaw table. It was something interesting, involving wolfsbane theory and development. She was pulled from her reading when Harry Potter sat down across from her. There were few kids in the great hall, so nobody took notice.<p>

"Hello Hermione," smiled Harry. Hermione greeted him back.

"I was wondering if you could do something for me," began Harry.

"Oh, what do you need help with?" she asked, closing her book. Harry quieted down, leaning in close. Getting the idea, she leaned in, her ear close to his mouth.

"I need you to assemble a report on Professor Quirrel. I want to know everything from when he was born up until what he had for breakfast today. The girls and I have a hunch that he's hiding something. Hopefully we can use this to find out what." Hermione looked thoughtful. On the one hand, it was probably illegal, even in wizarding courts. On the other hand, she did owe Harry for saving her. Well, him and the others.

"Alright, I'll do it. When do you want it?" Harry sat aback. He wasn't expecting a yes right away, but he'd take it.

"Hopefully by the end of the month. Thanks Hermione!" With that, Harry left the Hall and a young Ravenclaw to investigate her newest goal.

Harry headed for the exit a good feeling pervading his body. He stopped, walking by a somewhat familiar door. The section was barred, while the door had a sliding lock that looked notoriously rusty and squeaky. Given the librarian's superhuman hearing, it was impossible to get past. It was the Restricted section. Student myths told that the section held all the books that could make assignments easy. Tomes of unspeakable age from the age of the founders.

And he had an invisibility cloak.

* * *

><p>"Don't step on my foot."<p>

"Sorry."

"Now your stepping on my foot."

"Keep your feet closer together."

"Sorry."

"Get your elbow out of my ribs."

"Come on people! Be nice or I'm turning this cloak around!"

There were muted replies of 'sorry' underneath the invisibility cloak. Harry was in the center, with Tracy on his left. Daphne was behind him, while Tonks was on his right. It didn't take long for them to reach the door to the hallowed restricted section.

"Alright, so we need to silence the lock. Daphne, you're the best at it, you do it." Leaning over, Daphne pulled out her wand.

"_Silencio_" A small blue cloud wafted over to the rusty hatch and door, covering it and part of the frame before disappearing. Harry experimentally flicked it, hearing nothing. Tracy grabbed the latch, sliding it roughly open and pushing the door open, hearing nothing.

"Good job," replied Tonks. The four of them stepped inside, closing it and casting an illusion on the lock to make it appear closed.

"Alright, 5 minutes. We practiced the alarm disarm spell, but to prevent any suspicion, let's grab only three books each, max." The girls nodded, fanning out.

When Harry had mentioned the idea of breaking into the restricted section. They had been interested, but preliminary tests made them realize they would need a few different spells to get past. All library books had an anti copying spell, an antitheft spell, as well as a warning spell, should they be taken during non library times.

So, using a spell Daphne's father sent her, supposedly an uber powerful version of the _Finite Incantum,_ they would be able to break those charms. However, Harry's was the most powerful, and he was expecting to be doing all the charm removal, just to be safe.

With the girls off finding three books each of ancient knowledge and power, Harry was left finding something for himself.

"Hmm, dark magic, elemental magic, advanced combat charms... nothing of interest," he muttered, browsing books.

"Hmm, rudimentary blood magic. Looks interesting," he murmured. Casting the spell, he pulled it off the shelf, browsing pictures, instructions, diagrams, and notes. There was everything from blood wards, blood sacrifices, blood runes, blood everything. Pocketing the tome, he continued.

4 minutes later, he had a blood magic book for beginners, users and experts. He also decided to grab a spell book by Nikolai Tesla, and an interesting one on summoning rituals.

When he caught up with the girls, he was surprised what he found. Tonks grabbed three on metamorphous powers. Daphne had a few dark spell books containing dark spells, while Tracy had only two advanced transfiguration books.

Wordlessly, they hopped under the cloak, banishing the silencing charms and heading for the their room. After getting inside the bedroom, he took the cloak off revealing the four first years.

"Hey, you got four books!" protested Tonks. Harry grinned, waving the Tesla book.

"Sneaky Slytherin Tonks." She scowled, but sat down on the edge of the bed and cracked the ancient tome open.

Despite it being late at night, the four students stayed up late, reading their texts. They didn't have school the next day, so it wasn't a complete loss.

* * *

><p>[A.N.] There we have it! Chapter 4! Now, this chapter is somewhat of a filler, at least the final part. But I want to express that with the cloak, smarter friends than Weasly, and more ambition what with the Slytherin influence, they can do a great many things not shown in Canon. Now, the books Harry picked out will actually play a roll later on. Especially the Tesla book. Now, since there is now over 100 reviews, the next chapter shall be over 5K words, possibly 6 as a small reward on my part.<p>

As always, I ask that you review for they help. Now, next chapter, we'll move up the plotline. I'm sticking to the idea that the encounter with voldie happens near the end of the ear, sometime in June. I'll have Harry get something to help him during the summer with the Dursly's, if that happens at all.


	7. AN

Alright! I know this is a popular story! Believe me! I've got hundreds of story alerts, and the red army has added me to their favorites list of authors. Now, I've been given a very puzzling review.

Serius009 commented, bringing up a point I had thought about greatly. Should I delve into books two and three with rigorous gusto? I, as well as this reviewer, am leaning towards summing up both years in a 10K word chapter before moving onto Book 4, where all the good stuff starts. However, I would like your opinion on this my dear readers. So, I shall leave this chapter, well, the A.N. up, for a day. After that, excluding my opinion and Serius009's opinion, sorry, but since you brought the point, I can't count your vote, I will begin working on either the 10K chapter of Chamber of secrets, or I shall start Book two.

Thank you my dear readers for making your opinion heard.


	8. The Fight with Quirrel

Chapter 7! I think... Lemme check... Yup! Chapter 7! Those AN's always throw me off. Anywho! So, let's clear up some things. First of all, regarding Tonks. She is a young Tonks! That's right, first year Tonks! Same as Harry, Daphne and Tracy! Not enough Young Tonks stories out there. Sorry if I've left a few readers confused.

Now, This chapter shall wrap up book One. Next chapter shall wrap up books two and three, mostly because of a lack of action in year two and three. Not to say I won't pertain details, but It won't have any long chapter's devoted to plot development. But, I digress, let us move on! The final plot wrap up for book one!

On with the Story!

Weeks passed, where the students of Hogwarts were, depending on the year, studying for OWLS and NEWTS, or pining for summer break. The Slytherin company spent much time 'borrowing' books from the restricted section, learning things far more advanced than any third year could. Tonks had made great strides with her metamorph powers, able to do full body changes and minor adjustments to her height. Tracy had earned her house almost a hundred points in transfiguration class, already turning objects into larger animals. Daphne, in empty classrooms, had already mastered a few darker curses that could cause bodily harm through somewhat bloody means.

Harry though, had made considerable progress with his books. Around his room, he had erected several blood wards, mostly on the door and walls. Using a 'code mark,' a scarred symbol on his hand, Harry could control any blood ward he erected, and do any blood magic. The trouble with this mark was it had to be carved into his hand and irritated repeatedly so that it would scar.

His other success was his 'Tesla Watch' as he called it. Using his watch, the one he stole from Dudley, he inscribed the necessary runes and tied it to his magical core, a difficult feat for a first year indeed. The only saving grace was the detailed, step by step directions in the book. He could cast several spells with his Tesla watch, all without his wand.

On the Quirrel front, things were happening as well. With Hermione's help, he learned the DADA professor was just a fresh graduate who wrote textbooks for a living. It was only a year ago that he went to Albania before coming back as this semi stuttering wreck.

It was nearing the end of the year when Harry found the strange defence professor was up to something.

LINEBREAK

Harry was sitting on his bed, contemplating the events of the past year. Tracy was turning a matchbox into a pig and back again. Daphne was reading another dark arts book, while Tonks was morphing her features in front of a mirror.

"The third floor," spoke Harry. Tonks looked at him through the mirror.

"What?" Harry turned, absently rubbing the code mark. A habit he had picked up.

"Whatever Quirrel has planned involves the third floor corridor. How did we not see this before?" Daphne frowned, coming to the same realization.

"You're right... Whatever he's got planned involves that corridor. That's what he's going to do tomorrow! He's going to break in and... something!" cried Tonks, jumping with joy.

Harry frowned. "Tonks, how did you end up a Slytherin? Daphne got in because her family has a deep rooted history in Slytherin. Tracy got in because she's powerful and Daphne's friend. I got in because I've got ambition apparently and I would need you guys in the coming years. But how did you?" Tonks grinned.

"Well, my mother was Hufflepuff, so I was surprised. But I'm willing to chalk it up to my powers." At the slightly confused looks, she continued.

"When I found out I could change my form, my mother told me that I would have to be very careful with whom I make friends with. Since I can change my body at will, I would be valued completely for my body. So, I thought Slytherin would be good. I could prove to people I'm more than a slab of meat, while that careful isolation I'm used to would be present." Harry and the other girls nodded, understanding. To an extent, they all knew what ambition and isolationism was. Harry, beaten and locked in a cupboard, striving for something better. Daphne, ignored for her younger sister, wanting to prove her worth, prove her superiority. Tracy because her family was more concerned with politics than family. She wanted to show them what they had missed. And now Tonks, unable to see other kids because of her physical body, wanting nothing more than friends and the power to keep them.

"Alright, since that's done, let's figure out how to get Quirrel. Any ideas?"

Several hours later, they had an idea.

"So, we'll go to the third floor and find out what Quirrel is after, agreed?" Harry, Daphne and Tracy nodded. Tonks had come up with the idea, stating that there was no feasible way to track Quirrel. So, why not go where he wants to go? There was a weekend coming up, so that was a perfect chance to go.

LINEBREAK

"You're stepping on my foot again."

"Sorry."

"Again, your elbow is digging into my ribs."

"For the love of Merlin people! Can we not act civilly underneath this cloak?"

"God, imagine in a few years when we're bigger."

"...Shut up."

The Slytherin Company was underneath Harry's cloak, again, and were rapidly approaching their destination.

"When we do grow, we'll just flip coins. Deal?" The girls nodded, the group continuing on. They had another set of stairs to navigate before they got there.

"A darn," muttered Daphne.

"What?" asked Tonks.

"I'll probably end up like my mother," she replied, with a huff. Harry frowned.

"Why is that bad? I thought your mother was a slightly decent person, if cold?" They stopped, letting the staircase move to a more acceptable position.

"She's got a chest larger than us four tied together." Harry frowned. Tracy nodded, realization coming to her.

"Hey, with my metamorph powers, I could have a chest so large, we'll need wheelbarrows to carry them." Harry sighed.

"Enough about future chest sizes. I can't possibly see how this could matter in the slightest." Tracy gaped. She was about to retort when she realized that all of them were still young and such thoughts were either unnatural or just something they had heard from parents.

The door to the third floor corridor was old oak, wrapped with iron bands. Surprisingly, there was no lock at all, just a simple latch on the outside.

Harry used his ebony wand to open the lock silently, the four of them piling in before closing it. Harry set up a warning charm that would let them know when a person got near the door. Tearing the cloak off, the girls separated, breathing heavily.

"There has to be a better way of doing that," muttered Tonks, glancing somewhat hatefully at the cloak. The other's agreed, but Harry folded it and put it in his pocket.

"Hmm, look at the floor," observed Tonks. Harry looked, seeing what she saw.

"Well, that makes our job easier," he muttered. On the ground were the distinct marks of robes picking up dust, interspaced with footsteps. Judging by the buildup of dust everywhere and the floor, these tracks were new.

"Do you think he already came by?" asked Tracy. Harry frowned.

"Not sure. He wasn't at dinner, was he?" The Slytherin students quieted, going through the memories.

"No... In fact, I don't think he was, was he?" remarked Daphne.

"Moving on!" exclaimed Tonks. "It looks like he went through that door," she pointed. Harry walked over, wrenching on the latch.

"Locked," he replied. Pulling out his wand, he cast the unlocking charm on the door, watching a slight green glow surround the lock before falling away. Daphne tested it, finding it unlocked.

She opened it slightly, peering inside.

She squeaked, gently closing it.

"What? Something wrong?" asked Tracy. She squeaked again, whispering into her ear.

"Oh," replied Tracy.

"What?" asked Harry. "What's on the other side?"

"Oh, nothing that much, just a three headed dog. Sleeping though, but three headed." Harry nodded.

"Well, let's be quiet then?" he asked, pulling the cloak out.

Being quiet, they slipped under and, with pressuring on Daphne, walked through the door. Indeed, on the other side there was a massive three headed dog. A harp was playing in the corner, probably being used to subdue the creature.

Harry looked around, trying to find something that this dog might be guarding. There! A door!

"_Wingardium Leviosa!" _whispered Harry, aiming at the paw. Using the gentle levitation spell, he moved the foot, revealing a door.

"Alright, let's go down quietly," mouthed Tonks, drawing her wand. The other's followed suit. Casting a levitation charm on their bodies, they were able to safely levitate down to the bottom. Harry quietly laughed at the thought of a Gryffindork doing this. They would probably just jump and hope for the best.

It took only a minute to reach the bottom, where Daphne cast a bit of fire to burn the plant growth preventing any continuation of their journey. They continued down a hallway, nothing discerning it from any other hallway in the school except for the age. The next room they arrived in was different.

"Are those..." began Daphne.

"Keys, yeh, that's what I thought," murmured Harry. He glanced at the opposing door. The lock looked thick and old.

"It's probably a test of agility. Find the right key and use it. More than likely the keys start attacking when you find it. See the sharpened tips?" explained Harry. Sure enough, the keys showed sharpened tips, while the wooden door was pockmarked with small holes.

"So... how do we get past?" asked Tonks. Harry grinned.

"Stand back, I have an idea," replied Harry. The girls backed up, curious as to what he was going to do.

"Alright... hope this works. _Fulgur Fragor!" _From his wand propelled black electricity, launching forth in a black ball, tendrils arcing and striking the keys in the air. It soared across the room striking the door. In a twilight explosion that blew the four off their feet, the door exploded inwards, ripping even the hinges off.

His hair smoking, Harry stood up. "Merlin's beard," he muttered, falling back again.

LINEBREAK

With their attire fixed, the four of them continued. The next room was a large chessboard, which was dispatched with Daphne's larger knowledge of the dark arts. A wide area impact spell destroyed the chess pieces on the white side, leaving them to go through a door. The fourth room was a wall of fire with a logic puzzle.

"So... drink the right one and we can walk through, drink the wrong one and we're either dead in horrible manners or drunk?" Tonks nodded, summing up Tracy's point.

"Well, it's obviously this one," spoke Tonks, picking up the small green one to the left. Harry frowned.

"How do you know?" asked Daphne. Tonks elaborated.

"Pureblood raised wizards and witches have no logical power in them. A simple puzzle like this would leave most magical people cursing the table. Besides, I grew up half Muggle, it wasn't that hard at all." She opened the vial, the cork top popping off.

"Wait, how much is there? Surely we can't all drink from that small vial," spoke Tracy. Harry took the vial, gauging the contents.

"Hmm, if we follow potion laws on effectiveness versus consistency, I'm going to guess this is made for one person." They were glancing at each other, the same question on the edge of their tongues.

"Well, bottoms up," muttered Harry. He swigged the bottle, much to the protest of the girls.

"Harry! You stupid idiot! What if you need help?" cried Tonks. Harry shrugged.

"I'm the one holding the bottle. That and I refuse to put you in danger." Noticing that they were giving him dangerous looks, he continued.

"Listen, I don't know what's on the other side. For all I know, Quirrel is on the other side of this. Now, he's a useless teacher, so I don't know how effective he is, but I don't want to endanger you, any of you." Harry lowered his head slightly, before jumping backwards through the fires. The flames tickled slightly, but he passed through unharmed. As he passed, they roared up, keeping the girls away. He could hear spells impacting on the fire, but they held the spells at bay.

"Well, guess that settles that," he murmured. Harry inwardly flinched when he realized the girls were going to quite possibly kill him when this whole thing blew over.

Turning around, he headed down the corridor. As he proceeded down the hall, it began to widen, soft yellow torches lighting the way, growing brighter as he neared the exit. When he reached the end of the tunnel, he stared.

It was a large room, with darkened walls. It was made from two levels, one being little more than a wide step than anything. A sharp staircase led towards a small arena like area in the middle. In the arena were two things.

Professor Quirrel, and the Mirror of Erised.

"Potter," snapped the usually scared man. Harry drew his wand from its holster. If worst came to worse, well, he had _Fulgur Fragor._

"Can't say I'm surprised you made it here," continued the man. Harry edged his way down the steps, wand ready. A stray tendril of twilight energy arced off Harry's hand.

"Hmm, accidental magic. Unusual on a wizard with a wand," replied Quirrel, turning back to the mirror.

"I can see it, the stone. I see myself holding it, but I can't find it!" shouted Quirrel. Harry frowned. He was looking for a rock?

"Potter, do you know where it is?" snapped Quirrel. Harry shook his head.

"What stone could you been looking for?" pried Harry. The defence professor laughed.

"The philosopher's stone. The only object that can bring my dark master back into existence." Harry's mind whirled.

Quirrel wanted to bring back Lord Voldemort, the being that murdered his parents.

He had to be stopped.

"_Fulgur Fragor!_" cried Harry, aiming his wand. Quirrel casted a shield spell, glowing with thick sickly green streaks. Harry sent two more and an _Incindio_ at the professor, but the shield blocked them all. That's when Harry saw it. The frame of the mirror was metal, gold if he was correct.

Flinging his hand with the watch, he snapped his fingers, channeling magic through the watch and into his fingers, obeying his command.

A bold of black lightning launched forth, striking aged bronze. Because it wasn't properly grounded, the black, magically infused lightning sought out the nearest grounding wire.

Quirrel.

He shrieked as the lightning struck him, going around the shield. The bold dissipated, leaving the shocked professor to struggle to a standing position.

"_Reducto! Bombarda! Expelliarmus!" _cried the Professor. Harry dodged the first two but fell prey to the disarming spell, his wand flying out of his hand and lying in a corner.

With a wild snap of his fingers he cast two arcs of electricity at Quirrel, their black bodies racing towards the only grounding point in the room. he blocked the first, but the second struck him in the leg, bringing the professor to his knees.

Harry, not having his wand and feeling drained from the rapid fire lightning, did the only thing he thought of.

He charged.

In a wild charge, he tackled the professor's chest, sending the duo sprawling. At once there was a hissing sound as smoke began to rise, rolling out of Quirrel's body.

"What magic is this?" screamed Quirrel, watching his hands turn into ashes.

"_**YOU FOOL! KILL THE BOY!" **_screamed and ethereal voice, prompting Harry's scar to start burning. He glanced around, trying to find a place where the voice came from, but only one location caught his attention.

"The turban," he whispered. Charging forward, he grabbed the edge, reefing as hard as he could. It came off fairly easily, revealing its secret.

"OH MY GOD!" cried Harry, watching a face emerge from the back of Quirrel's head. at this point, his neck was crumbling, but slowly. Harry swiftly punched the face, causing both Quirrel and the face thing to scream in pain, before they both exploded in grey and black dust.

"He... he ha!" laughed Harry, watching the dust fall. He stumbled over to the mirror, tired as hell and a bit delirious, deciding to see what Quirrel was looking for.

Staring into the mirror, he didn't see his parents, or the smoky outline near the back. Instead, he only saw himself pulling a funny red stone out of his pocket.

"Hmm, that's weird," he muttered, not taking notice of the sudden weight in his pocket. He froze though, when the sound of moving dust echoed in the cavern.

Turning around slowly, he screamed. A ghostly apparition of the face was at eye level, flying towards him in a silent scream. It collided with his chest, sending him backwards and into the mirror, breaking the glass and landing in a pile, broken shards raining upon him and digging into cuts.

"They're going to kill me," he muttered, passing into blissful sleep.

Several minutes later, a figure in blue robes with a floor length beard walked into the room, surveying the damage.

"Perfect," he muttered, undecidedly in a pleased or irritated tone.

LINEBREAK

Soft white light woke the sleeping youth. Eyelids opened, revealing emerald green eyes. They flicked left and right, taking in his surroundings.

Beds in white linen, stretching distantly, blurring without his classes. Sheet dividers separated the beds partially, but his was the only bed in use.

Looking down, he could see a moderate pile of gifts and cards, the nearest one probably saying 'Get Well Soon.'

Harry groaned, rubbing his scar, hoping to get rid of the lingering pain that was there. Propping himself up on his elbows, he looked for anyone that might be in the hospital wing.

"Oh, you're awake." Harry's head snapped to the left, an audible crack piercing the silence.

"Headmaster?" he asked. Dumbledore was sitting on the edge of a chair, slowly turning a box of jelly beans in his hand.

"I was interested, when you missed the feast the other day. Imagine my surprise when I realized Professor Quirrel was not there as well. Since the third floor corridor was off limits, I checked there. With the dog sleeping and the hatch open, it didn't take me long to figure things out. Tell me, what happened to the Professor?" Harry scooted up a bit, pushing the pillow under his back, providing a sitting position.

"I'm... I'm not sure. He was... wanting something from the mirror. It changed into a duel, where he disarmed me." At this, Harry stopped. He remembered what happened, the face, Quirrel breaking apart, and with a fuzzy memory, being thrown into the mirror by a face.

"I'm not sure what happened after I tackled him. I... remember being thrown into the mirror, then I woke up here." Dumbledore nodded. Inwardly he grinned. The boy didn't get the stone, and he didn't remember Quirrel being possessed.

"Well then, I believe there is one thing left to discuss one last thing. You're accommodations for the summer." Harry frowned. Why would it be... oh no.

"I'm not sure where you disappeared for the last few weeks before the school year, but you must return to the Dursly's for the summer." Harry paled.

"No... no you can't!" he started, images already flashing by, memories of pain. Memories of abuse.

"I'm afraid it's true. With your aunt being a relative, her blood powers the blood wards that keep you safe during the summers. They keep out wizards wishing you ill intent." Harry shook his head.

"No, anywhere but there!" he shouted, fists clenching the sheets of the bed.

"'You don't know what they do to me!" He reflexifly grabbed his arm, the shaking evident. Dumbledore sighed. He asked the Dursly's to be cruel and mildly abusive, but not to this extent. He needed him weak, not a sobbing wreck!

"I will speak with the Dursly's on their treatment with you. Perhaps a few memory spells and idle threats will correct them." Harry was still shivering, his hand clenching his arm as the shaking spread to his shoulder.

Dumbledore stood up, pulling something from his robes. A wand, black with the initials H.P. engraved in the dragonhide handle.

"I took the liberty of retrieving your wand from the chamber. A most peculiar wand I must say. I was expecting something else, given your parent's wands." He twisted it in his hands, observing it, before putting it on the table.

"Madam Pomphrey will be here soon, she'll release you when she deems you healthy." With that, the aging headmaster departed, leaving Harry by himself. He gripped his arm, the shaking lessening slightly.

Anger. Black, powerful anger clenched at his heart. How dare the headmaster! How dare he sentence him to that... that place! And expect a few 'memory' charms and spells would change anything.

In anger, he lashed out, removing his hand and pounding it into the bed. Black lightning arced, striking a nearby bottle of Skele-grow. It exploded, sending creamy white fluids everywhere. Harry's eyes widened, the shaking stopped. Immediately followed the Matron.

"It's always a problem, first years get hurt, get mad, and BOOM! A burst of accidental magic! I swear, I've gone through more equipment due to accidental magic then St. Mungos," she grumbled, loud enough for Harry to hear. He froze.

Wasn't accidental magic untraceable? No... that wasn't it. Daphne would know.

"Damn, the girls," he muttered. As if on cue the doors burst inwards, charging the three Slytherin girls that Harry had a healthy fear of.

"Harry James Potter you stupid idiot!" cried Tonks. Harry was sure she grew her lungs a bit just to get that extra bit of strength. Harry recoiled slightly as the girls charged, standing at the foot of his bed, giving him harsh glares.

"Umm, Sorry?" he tried. It didn't work.

"What the hell were you thinking?" asked Daphne, anger lacing her voice.

"Well, he was there! He wanted something! To be fair, he struck first!" pointed Harry.

"Yeh right! You probably tried blowing him up, didn't you!" exclaimed Tracy. His silence was all they needed.

"Well... he threw me into a mirror!" retorted Harry.

"Before or after you tried to blow him up?" asked Tracy Sternly. All three girls were tapping their feet.

"After," mumbled Harry. They scowled.

"Harry Potter, for you extreme stupidity... your sleeping on the couch." Harry gaped.

"Hold on! It's my room! You can't do that!" exclaimed Harry. Daphne grinned.

"Try us," she grinned, eyes narrowing. The other two girls grinned as well.

"Oh, by the way, since we're on the topic of your punishment, Hermione wanted to talk to you. Something about payment for her investigative work?" Harry nodded. He had told the resident bookworm that he would get around to paying her back for the services of finding info about Quirrel later. Problem is, he kind of forgot about that. Then again, being thrown into hospital can jog your memory.

"Say, how long have I been out?" asked Harry. Tonks frowned.

"About a week actually. You hit the mirror pretty hard. Madam Pomphrey said your magical core was fluctuating for about 4 days. Apparently you had magical blocks set by your parents she had to remove." Harry frowned. A block?

Seeing his confusing, Daphne elaborated. "When children are younger, a block on your magic is not uncommon. Accidental magic in a young young child can be lethal. I guess yours weren't removed when you started school." Harry nodded. It made sense. As a child, you could see a knife and want it because it's shiny. Or get mad and wish someone away.

He was struck from his thoughts by Daphne tackling him, entrapping him in a hug.

"Stupid prat," she mumbled. The other girls joined in, but less violent than Daphne. Harry rubbed their backs.

"Sorry, onetime thing," he said. Under his breath, he mumbled 'almost.'

LINEBREAK

Harry stood on the train platform, looking for his 'relatives.' Dumbledore had apparently contacted them and threatened them to be nicer to Harry. Personally, he didn't believe it. Next to him were the three girls, all waiting for their parents to find them.

"Oh my god! Is that a man?" asked Tonks, pointing at the proverbial wall of moving flesh, clothed in a grey suit, rolling towards them. Indeed, it was Vernon Dursly, walking on legs too short for his own body mass, giving the appearance that he was rolling towards the black haired youth.

"BOY!" screamed the fleshy mass, eliciting a jump of fright from Harry.

Like an obedient dog, Harry walked forward, his trunk trailing behind him. Hedwig the Eagle was going to stay with Tonks for the summer, writing letters back and forth. He didn't trust Vernon not to do anything.

"We're leaving," snapped the man, turning right around.

"By Harry!" waved the girls, watching him depart. He was soon lost to the crowds, the three girls standing there, waiting for their parents.

"I hope he's ok for next year," murmured Daphne.

Harry stumbled after Vernon, arriving at the car. Vernon swirled, glaring at Harry.

"Your freakish teacher told us to be nice to you this summer. He... convinced us... to not harm you." Harry let out a quiet sigh.

"Physically. All summer you will be doing chores, all day. Petunia has drawn up a schedule that you will adhere to. Any deviance and... well... accidents happen." With that, he entered the car, the hatch opening on the back. Harry moved his trunk towards the back and hefted it in, closing it. He wrapped his hand around the handle, when he felt it.

A pulse. Electric pulses going through the car. He could see tendrils of white light spanning the car, avoiding some sections. They were heavily concentrated in the front. It took him a moment to realize that he was seeing the electricity in the car.

"Interesting," he murmured. Just something to add to his plans. He entered the car, the door closing with a thud. A quick snap of his fingers and he managed to reroute the power from the battery elsewhere, preventing it from starting.

"Now then, 'Uncle' Vernon," spoke Harry. His voice was decidedly darker than usual. Vernon was only just paying attention, instead trying to start the car.

"Things are going to change around the house." This got Vernon's attention.

"What are you bloody talking about!" the man screamed, attempting to turn around. When he did, he paled, his usual red face turning an interesting shade of white. Harry had a ball of twilight lightning in his hand, spinning rapidly. Five tendrils of energy connected it to his fingers.

"You see, I discovered something interesting over the year. I can only get expelled if I use magic with my wand. This is, as defined by fairly stupid and backwards laws, perfectly legal." Vernon heard every 3 word, but he got the main idea.

"Now, here is how the summer will work. I will cook meals for the sole that I like cooking. I will have Dudley's second bedroom. We do not have to interact at all during the summer. Deal?" the black lightning spoke volumes on Harry's power.

Vernon could Only nod.

[A.N.] Chapter 7! Finally! 7 chapters into one year! A glorious affair this has been! Now, I have compiled my results, through both the reviews and PM's I've had, and I've decided on this.

A 10 or 12K word chapter for book 2. There will be changes to canon, but it'll be somewhat familiar to a person new to this fandom. Now, book three will be a smaller chapter, more than likely a collection of events rolled into one. It'll probably be a 5 or 6K chapter. In my opinion there was not much that happened in that story. The boggart, gaining the map, that's about it. Oh, and Siruis, that was kinda important.

Now, All I ask is you review this chapter and give your honest opinion on what you think. I'd prefer reviews that are a few sentences long. One was simply 'good job.' Nice, but irritating as hell.


	9. The Beginning of Change

Yay! I officially call this the start of Book 2! Harry Potter and the Chamber of secrets! Now, canon shall change, but the year end result will more or less be similar to canon. Probably.

I'm just fucking with you! Shit's going to change! Like I said, I've got something for Hermione this book! Gotta set her up with somebody! Now, if I'm not mistaken, there was nothing really important to be addressed from reviews, but I do have a feeling that some people are not fully understanding the situation. So, I'll clarify.

Tonks: Tonks is a first year, now second, at Hogwarts. The easiest thing to say is she is a young Tonks. It's been done, but not that often. To my knowledge.

Hermione: She will **not** be joining the group in the same shape that Daphne/Tracy/Tonks have joined. She'll be a friend, but nothing more.

Harry: Well, it'll be explained later. Suffice to say, with this new magic, he's learned the ability to manipulate electricity. Muggle electronics are just a bonus.

Now, I think I've covered everything. Anything left shall be explained.

On with the story.

The car drove silently through the suburbs of Little Whinging, Surrey. In the front seat, a large man, who's girth was almost too much to fit behind the wheel. In the back, a boy, with a compact build. His black messy hair extended to his shoulders, where it was bound in a simple ponytail. Despite the attempt to keep it strait, it chocked at the tie and flared outwards. In his hand was a black ball of electricity, spinning slowly, joined by tendrils connecting to his fingers. If one looked closely, they would see currents of energy running towards his watch.

"Now then, Uncle," stated the boy. His name was Harry Potter. For 10 years he had lived with this relative, hating every minute, being abused for most of the 10 years.

"You will unload my trunk and put it in Dudley's second bedroom. You will inform Petunia and Dudley of the current arrangement. In case you forgot, here it is. I will cook simply because I want to. You will not demand anything of me. In return, I will keep to myself. Agreed?" The driver, Vernon Dursly, didn't respond. Harry took it as a yes.

"Good!" he exclaimed. When the car pulled into the driveway, Harry hopped out, the electric ball of death dissipated. He glanced around, observing the street. Same houses, same yards, same cars, even the same flowers.

"Does nothing change?" he wondered. Not caring for his Uncle's grunts of effort as he tried to get the trunk out, Harry walked up to the door, stepping through. And low and behold! There was the mini-me of Vernon himself!

"There you are you freak!" exclaimed Dudley, one hand around a bag of crisps, the other in said bag.

"Yes, me. Go away porky, I'm getting something to eat," replied Harry. Dudley, stunned as to the proceedings, just stood there as Harry wedged past him, heading for the fridge.

"Ah, Vernon, about-" Petunia stopped when she saw that it was not her overweight husband in grey, but instead the 11 year old boy known as Harry Potter in a black jacket and pants, white collared shirt underneath, tucked cleanly into his black acrumantula pants, dragon hide boots covering his feet.

"Yes, it's me, Harry Potter. As Vernon is no doubt aware, I am not someone to be messed with anymore. Here's the deal: I cook because I like to. Other than that, you don't have to see me. Agreed?" Petunia huffed, her horse like face gaining a shade of red.

"Now you listen-" She was in mid rant when Dudley walked in, a mask of anger on his face.

"You can't speak to me like that you useless-" That was as far as the younger porker got. Harry idly snapped his fingers, a black spike of energy racing towards Dudley. It impacted his leg, stunning the nerves there, sending the child to the ground. Ignoring the screams of Petunia, Harry continued.

"I obviously command forces you will never know, so any attempt to stop me will be far worse than what 'didi-kins' over there experienced." Petunia squeaked, seeing the blatant command of energy Harry wielded. She knew, from her sister, that the Ministry only tracked that freakishness from their sticks. If he was using his hands, then he wasn't doing anything bad.

"Now, since we're agreed, I do believe I'll take the second bedroom as my own." Harry grabbed an apple and a bottle of water, heading upstairs. When he was at the base, he paused.

"Your leg should regain feeling later on. Don't test me, or I'll kill the nerves." With that, the recently graduated first year hiked the stairs, entering the second bedroom. He closed the door, closing the heavy black curtains with it, shrouding the room in darkness. A small bulb lit with Harry's power of electrical manipulation caused it to burn brightly. He pulled out his wand.

"Hope this works," he murmured.

LINE BREAK

Petunia nervously walked towards the second bedroom. For the past hour there were some freakish lights coming from beneath the door, but nobody dared open it. God knows what the freak was doing. Unfortunately, dinner was approaching, and the boy did say he would cook. Hoping to spare herself an evening of work, she was selected to ask the freak.

She glanced back and forth, as if looking for spying neighbours. Somewhat confident no one would see her, she knocked. There was silence, until the freak answered.

"Come in!" he shouted, irritated. She cautiously opened the door, gasping at the sight.

Originally, the room was a pale baby blue, with yellowed boarders. The carpet was a fleshy shag variety, while the drapes were black but moth-ridden. Apparently the freak had been doing some remodeling.

The carpet was now a rich milky marble, with forest green rugs with black and silver snake designs on them covering areas. The walls were a forest green, such a cool color that they actually calmed whatever feeling of hate she had. The thick black drapes were now cleaned and looking silky, but strong. The bed was made of black wood with a similar coloured duvet and green sheets. A bookshelf made of the wood spanned one entire wall, already a few books on the shelves. The freak was actually reclining in a plush green recliner, seemingly built for his size.

"Make it quick," he muttered, turning a page. His eyes lit up at whatever he read, placing a green sticky note on the page.

"We... um... well... dinner... umm..." She continued to stutter, but Harry understood.

"I think I'm going to hold off on dinner. Let you people sort it out." He pulled out his wand, black with a glossy shield, and waved it. On his lap appeared a large pizza, topped with various cheeses and meats, hovering in place.

"I myself shall enjoy this lovely pizza." Swishing his wand, he spoke something in Latin, pushing her out of the room, if somewhat roughly. Harry waved his wand, closing the door.

He looked at his wand, smiling. "And to think, such a legal loophole exists in the Ministry. How did it go? Oh yes... 'Magic may not be performed in the presence of uninformed Muggles. Should magic be used, several rules must be followed. First, visual sight must not be made with an uneducated Muggle. Second, auditory contact must not be made with an uneducated Muggle. Third, if magic is used by a minor, secrecy wards must be in place on the home. Lacking that, the only Muggles permitted in the area are to be educated Muggles.'"

Harry smiled, remembering when he read the notice given to students, saying no magic was to be done, in accordance with ministry regulations. A quick check on an idiots version proved otherwise. He absently took a bite of his pizza. He nodded in approval.

He was taken from his enjoyment when Hedwig flew into the room, landing on a small perch. Harry noticed her ruffled appearance, a wild look in her eyes, and the letter addressed to Daphne and Tracy still around her leg.

"Again? Why can't you get the letter there?" murmured Harry. The only reason he could see it happening was that someone was intercepting his mail, or it was too dangerous for Hedwig to get there. He was guessing the former, since every letter ended up like that.

LINE BREAK

The summer was the most relaxed in Harry's memory. The Dursly's rarely bothered him, instead only Petunia quietly asking every now and then if he could make something specific for dinner. He usually didn't comply with her requests, but nerveless he cooked.

It was nearing the beginning of the school year that he openly approached the family.

He walked into the living room, not bothering to get their attention. Instead, he shut the power off to the TV. "I'll be needing a ride into London tomorrow. I have to shop for school. Honestly, all I expect you to do is drop me off near the Starbucks and Chapters bookstore and pick me up in 6 hours. If I'm late, then you wait." With that, Harry turned out, letting the TV turn back on.

When he arrived at his room, he slumped against the wall, clenching his arm as it shook. Inwardly, he was grinning. The few times he freaked his relatives out it always had satisfaction, but ended with these uncontrollable shakes that wracked his body. He wasn't sure what they were, but he hated them. He would have them resolved this year if it killed him.

It was the next day that Harry found himself at the entrance to Diagon Alley. For some reason, it filled him with a strange satisfaction to be here. The magical world was home to him. It was where he belonged.

"Harry!" He was brought out of his musings as a familiar pink haired witch dive-bombed his neck, taking him down to the ground.

"Nice to see you to Tonks," groaned Harry, momentarily stunned from the friendly attack. After a few minutes spent getting up, he looked at the pink haired metamorph.

"So, any reason my mail didn't get sent?" he asked, a somewhat piercing glare directed at her.

"Your mail?" she retorted. "What about mine! Gerald was almost killed twice trying to get a letter to you!" Harry frowned.

"Same with Hedwig. That means someone was intercepting our mail." Tonks nodded. Who would have been intercepting the mail though?

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Harry and Tonks spun around at the shriek of a familiar violet eyed girl. What was not familiar was the fist colliding with Harry's jaw, sending him spinning in a circle before falling to the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head.

LINE BREAK

Harry groaned, a dull yet sharp pain in his jaw. Opening is eyes, he saw he was still in the middle of the alley, but now he had Tracy leaning over him, making sure he was ok. To his left, Tonks was explaining to Daphne why her owl was almost killed for attempting to deliver a letter and why Harry didn't send her a letter.

"Ow," he muttered. Tracy's blue eyes widened.

"Daphne, he's awake. Apologize to the poor guy!" Daphne turned away from Tonks, seeing Harry was awake from her blow. It wasn't that he had been out that long, but he had been out.

"Explain why my owl was almost killed. SEVERAL TIMES! Trying to send you a letter!" she all but screamed. Harry staggered to his feet, his arms pinwheeling to steady himself.

"First... wow... It wasn't just your owl. All our owls were attacked, with unopened letters. This means somebody was intercepting our mail. Not that I tried to attack your owl." Daphne paused, seeing Tonks and Tracy nodding. Tracy had figured it out when there was a mild cut on her owl not an hour after sending the letter.

"Oh..." There was an awkward silence before she apologized. "Umm, sorry Harry. I sort of jumped to conclusions." Harry nodded.

"Only a little harm done. Now, how about shopping for school supplies?" The girls nodded, Daphne hanging back a bit. Harry understood, she more than likely felt bad about decking him in the middle of the street over a misunderstanding. Despite the misunderstanding, the Slytherin company were able to quickly make their way to the various shops, grabbing their school supplies. After an hour, they had one shop left.

"Florish and Blotts. All we need are the complete works of Gildroy Lockhart." Harry looked up from his paper, looking at the store. Outside was an enormous lineup of people, mostly women in their mid sixties, all with a collection of varying books, all with a blond haired man on the front. Harry glanced at the girls, similar looks passing between them.

"Mail order?" asked Harry. They nodded.

"Mail order," they replied. With that, the group walked quickly away, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. When the group of four arrived at the bar, Harry ordered them all sandwiches and soup.

"So, have your relatives treated you well?" started Tonks. Harry finished a bite before answering.

"Well, when I displayed the ability to use lightning without getting caught by the ministry, they treated me quite... civilly." Harry smiled at that statement, his friends giving him a questioning look.

Harry frowned when he realized something. "We've got another 3 weeks until school starts. And I've got to stay with my relatives." He frowned. It wasn't that it would be a bad thing, but since they left him alone, it was very lonely at the Muggle house.

The four sat in silence for several minutes before Daphne's eyes widened.

"You can stay at my house!" she exclaimed. Harry turned to her. The idea had come to him briefly near the end of the school. That is, staying with any of the girls, but for some reason, Dumbledore was adamant that he reside with the Dursly's for the summer.

"Can I?" asked Harry. Daphne nodded. Turning to the other's she continued.

"In fact, my father and sister are out of the country for a month, so it's just me and my mother. You could all stay at my place!" The idea appealed to Tonks and Tracy. Getting to spend almost 11 months out of the year with each other sounded like a great idea.

So, without further adiu, they send letters to their parents, saying where they would be and that they would all be safe. Harry conveniently forgot to meet up with his uncle, leaving him to park by the pub for several hours.

[A.N.] I've decided to split this into a few chapters. Not as long as the first book, but a few chapters. Mostly because I'm going to fuck with the plot by the end of the book. Anywho, I enjoy reviews, so please, do review. Oh, and next chapter, THERE SHALL BE LEMONS!


	10. The Basilisk

*laughes* Hehe, it's awesome, if you think about it. I mentioned lemons, and everyone assumed I would be having a sex scene with underage 12 year olds.

But I'm not.

Your reviews and PM's have left me laughing my ass off, bringing a good deal of joy into my week. When I mentioned lemons, it was partially to piss off admins. At the end of the chapter, an omake shall feature the gang eating lemons using words commonly used when describing explicit situations. Just to make the admins mad. Now, without further adiu,

On with the Story

Harry stood dumbly, slightly dizzy from the effects of apparition, staring at the massive building. It was symmetrical, four stories high with grey stone as the base material. Instead of subduing the spirit of the house, it added, with trees, greenery, fountains and grass. Much like the name, the grass was very green and fresh, with small bits of dew scattered on the blades.

"Wow," mumbled Tonks, staring at the massive structure. Tracy, who had been a friend of Daphne before Harry and Tonks joined the group, was still amazed at the sheer size of the building.

"Yup," replied Daphne smugly. "My house. Home of the Greengrass family for over 600 years. On a slightly darker note, 50 percent of the Muggle world's medicinal Marijuana is produced in our greenhouses!" Tonks and Harry nodded, having some knowledge of medicinal goods.

Daphne led the group in, her mother already having left the amazed 12 year olds near the edge of the wards. When they arrived in the entrance hall, the two Muggle raised children gasped, seeing the high vaulted ceiling, huge glass chandeliers, impressive tapestries and portraits, displaying people long since dead, or battles long since fought.

"Beat's the Dursly's any day of the week," stated Harry.

LINE BREAK

On the corner of an average London street, hiding an invisible pub, the worst kind of pub, was a large whale. Closer inspection would reveal it to be a man, but at a distance, anyone could make that mistake.

He was standing next to his car, awaiting the freak of a nephew to show up so he could go home. Looking at his watch, he grimced when he realized it was far past the time he should have been home. The boy had said he would be a few hours, not the entire bloody day and most of the evening.

Looking at his watch, he realized he was probably missing dinner, or whatever was going to pass for it. Seeing no sign of the boy, he hopped in his car, heading for the closest fast food restaurant.

LINE BREAK

Harry woke, the sun momentarily blinding his eyes. Glancing around, he found himself in an unfamiliar place, but a familiar position.

The walls were a light brown stone, with some pictures of moving landscapes. Alone one wall was a floor to ceiling window, overlooking a small lake, a dock below. The bed was large, large enough that he couldn't feel either edge, even with his arms spread out. Speaking of arms...

Holding his left arm was Tracy, using it as a pillow, the light build of muscles cushioning her head. Holding his right arm was Daphne, instead wrapping her arms around it, her back curled into his ribs. And finally, Tonks was lying on top, arms beneath his shoulder blades, effectively hugging him in her sleep. He noticed her hair was colored a deep green color, probably having happened when she slept.

He let himself settle further into the soft folds of the bed, a smile gracing his face. Up until just over a year ago, he hadn't known what friends were. He didn't know what it was like for people to appreciate his presence, or what it was like to be loved, in any sense. And now he had these three girls who were his only and closest friends. They had helped him find the philosopher's stone, and stuck by him even when he downed the potions and jumped through the flames.

Wait a minute.

Gently moving, slowly shifting his weight, he managed to gently roll Tonks next to Daphne. He absently noticed the two of them to hug each other in their sleep, something that amused him. It took only a few more seconds to remove his arm from Tracy, noticing with a bit of a laugh that she curled up to the two girls.

Scratching his head, he wandered over to his trunk, having been magically transported here by the house elves. Unlocking the clasps, he opened the lid, rooting around in the far corner, his arm disappearing inside the expanded depths of the trunk. He groped for a minute, trying to find what he was searching for. A victory cry later and he was holding the red stone.

A source of immortality, the ability to heal almost any ailment. He gazed into the ruby depths, wondering just how much power it actually had. He had initially been shocked to learn that Dumbledore hadn't stolen it back from him, instead deciding to not search his pockets. It was some help that the school nurse had been the one to go with Dumbledore, preventing him from searching Harry's clothes.

He looked at it again, seeing how the light refracted through the edges and bumps. This had to be stored somewhere safe. Somewhere, secure.

LINE BREAK

3 WEEKS LATER

Harry sat in the train car, awaiting the arrival of his friends. While they were saying goodbye to family members, Harry had no family of that sort, so he went on ahead to find an empty car. He found one near the back, with, oddly, nicer seats than last year. He was reading a book on blood magic when he was interrupted.

"Harry! There you are!" exclaimed a brunette Ravenclaw girl. Harry looked up to see Hermione standing in the door.

"Yes, here I am. Care to join me? I'm waiting for Daphne, Tracy and Tonks to show up." She nodded, taking a seat near the window. She looked at the title of his book, a gasp escaping her mouth.

"Harry, isn't blood magic of any variety illegal?" she asked, casting her eyes around, as if the ministry would show up any second.

Harry snickered. "In a way it is." At her questioning look, he continued. "Blood magic is the act of using your blood to draw energy from other means than your magical core. The most common use of this, in recorded history, was dark rituals requiring sacrifices of blood, death, virgins, the whole shebang. Blood Magic, without the sacrifice and ritual part, is in fact just using blood to draw on the energies of the earth into you're magic, through a ritual type fiasco." She nodded unsurely, hoping he would continue.

"The act is symbolic of giving up part of your strength to the earth, letting her lend you a proportional amount. A drop of blood for you would be the same as a volcano on a bad day for the earth." She nodded, finally understanding. Magic was like that, filled with symbolism, double meaning, and idiocracy.

"Regardless, I don't think I'll pursue this branch of magic. It'll arouse too many suspicions, especially with me being in Slytherin. I'm already on an unofficial trail from the rest of the school." She laughed at that statement.

Just as Harry finished explaining, the door slid open, revealing the three girls. They sat down, Tracy next to Hermione, while Tonks and Daphne took up positions next to Harry, Tonks clinging off of his arm.

The train travelled through the countryside, shrouded in anti – Muggle charms, carving a magical path through northern Britain and into Scotland. The occupants of the train car talked about idle things. Mostly about what new adventure the year would bring, classes, and of course the idiocy of a certain red haired student.

They were in the middle of the train ride when the oddest thing happened.

With a crack, a small, grey skinned... thing... apperated into their compartment. Harry, having very little experience with magical creatures, wasn't sure what it was. Daphne, Tracy and Tonks however, growing up in a magical environment, knew exactly what it was.

"A house elf? What are you doing here?" asked Daphne. The elf turned around, facing Harry.

"Oh Mister Harry Potter sirs! Dobby has found you!" he cried. He bowed at Harry's feet, almost kissing the carpet.

"Why are you here?" asked Harry nervously. The house elf righted itself.

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter not to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" Harry looked around. Off in the distance he could see Hogsmeed village. A little beyond that and Hogwarts would be in sight.

"Umm, you're sort of late... We're almost there..." trailed off Harry. Dobby looked out the window, seeing the station in the distance.

With a crack, the elf vanished, leaving the occupants to wonder just what the hell just happened.

LINE BREAK

It was several weeks later that the monotonous days of school began to get interesting. Harry was on his way back from the Gryffindor Tower Ghost's annual death party, when he heard the oddest of things.

"_let me rip let me tear let me kill let me rip let me kill" _ Harry spun around, hearing the voice. It seemed to come from everywhere yet nowhere. He noticed as he got closer to the wall, he could hear it better. Walking quickly, he got to the other end of the hallway. Next thing he knew he was running, following the noise to where it was going.

He followed the sound of the voice up and out of the dungeons, heading towards the second floor. He listened, running next to the wall, almost losing the voice several times. One of these instances was when he saw what the voice might have been talking about.

Bolting around a corner, he gasped.

Hanging from a brazier, the wall beside it covered in bloody writing, was Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat. He stepped back, noticing idly his feet sinking into the water covered floor. Glancing at the wall, he stared.

In blood was written large, foot tall letters, arching across the wall beside the cat.

"_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware."_

"Chamber of what now?" mumbled Harry.

"_let me rip let me tear let me kill..."_ echoed the voice, urging Harry onwards. Another minute of running down halls and up and down stairs led him to the second floor girl's washroom.

"The girls loo?" he wondered, speaking aloud. Cautiously, he pulled out his wand, slowing down to a walk. He opened the door quietly, looking inside.

The room was circular in nature, with stalls surrounding the center sink. The mirrors were dusty and old, and the windows were yellowed and covered in dust. He guessed when it was sunny outside; they cast a warm golden light around.

"Oh look, another boy," drawled a very high pitched feminine voice. Harry jumped as a ghost in the form of a young girl flew out of the farthest stall, shooting for the ceiling.

"Come to laugh at poor, helpless Moaning Myrtil?" she pouted, floating aimlessly through the bathroom. Harry frowned. She was loud, and it might attract people.

"_Impedementia!"_ he whispered. A faint blue distortion flew to the ghost, impacting. She froze, both physically and momentum wise, hovering in the air like a statue. Satisfied, he entered the washroom.

"_letmeripletmetearletmekill," _whispered the voice, this time echoing from the center of the room. Harry edged his way over, taking a look.

For all intents and purposes, the sink was as it should be. Rounded, with twelve mirrors and matching sinks. The hissing though was coming from the faucets though. Slowly making his way around, he was only able to notice one difference.

One sink had a snake engraved on the pipe. He could hear the voice directly below him, steadily growing quieter and quieter, yet it acquired an echoing quality.

"Maybe there is some secret passage," he guessed.

"Of course, that implies a secret password. Watch, it's something stupid and has a Muggle reference." He chuckled, thinking of a funny password.

"_Open Sesame!"_ he whispered humorously. He almost tripped when the whole sink area split apart into 8 pieces. It sunk into the floor a half foot before sliding back again, repeating until it was flush with a massive pipe leading strait down.

"Oh hell no," he murmured. He took several steps back, pacing. First the funny voice, then Filche's cat, then the girls bathroom, now this.

"No no no... no weird adventure, god knows what's down there." He idly sniffed, recoiling at the smell.

"Yup," he gasped, attempting to find fresh air. "Something nasty down there." He pondered at his odd choice of words. Tonks was wearing off on him.

He glanced down the hole, the hissing growing fainter and fainter. If he didn't now, he might not have another chance.

"Well I'm not going to go and jump down like a Gryffindor." With that, he cast a levitation charm on his shoes, letting him fall gently over a period of five minutes. Far better than jumping, especially when he considered that there was a large pile of bones of varying animals at the bottom.

"God this is disguisting," he groaned, quickly leaving the small 'landing chamber' as he called it. He travelled several hundred meters until he found the first object that set his adrenaline surging.

A large scaled husk, only held together by what looked like a hardened polish between the obvious scales. Looking closer he saw it was a large snake skin. It had a faint green tinge, but for the most part, it was an ivory white. It had to be several dozen feet long. Certainly longer than 50 feet.

His left hand flew to his right, trying to prevent the shaking. Storing his wand, he pulled it to his side, taking several deep breaths.

"Why does that happen?" he hissed to himself, the reverberations of his question bouncing off the walls. The shaking stopped after a minute. Several more deep breaths and he had calmed down, pulling his wand out again. Casting a cheering charm on himself, he immediately felt better.

"Meh, can't be that bad, can it?" laughed Harry, striding forward. Perhaps he needed to tone down his cheering charm.

Turning a corner in the labyrinth beneath the school, he came upon a door. It was circular, with the largest hinge he had ever seen. The door was made of a strange green tinted metal, forged into the very rock around it. 9 snakes were spaced around the door, aimed outwards from a center point on the door. A small tunnel by the hinge was open, flush with the snake locks.

"Why can't the common room door be like that? That's awesome!" he cried excitedly, still under the effects of the cheering charm.

"_Open sesame!"_ he cried, figuring it might work like it did with the sink. He was pleasantly surprised when a tenth snake slid out from the small tunnel, pushing the other nine away from their slots, unlocking the door. It swung open soundlessly, revealing a dark interior.

"Creepy!" smiled Harry, stepping through the door. Still under the effects of an overpowered cheering charm, he took in the surroundings.

Instead of seeing a dank, damp, dark and somewhat depressing stone chamber with stone snakes rising out of black water, he saw a perfect example of magical masonry, mixed in with excellent humidity control and anti mold charms.

"This is nice!" he stated, not caring that a murderous thousand year old magical killing machine was somewhere nearby. His attention was turned to the middle of the room, seeing something quite odd.

"Oh, hello! Are you by chance that first year Weasly Griff?" shouted Harry, running towards the red haired figure.

Said figure was staring at him with confused blood red eyes, looking at him with both shock and anger.

"Potter!" screamed the figure. The voice was warbled, coming out disjointed, as if there was a wall of water between them.

"Yes, that's me, and you are?" asked a cheerful Harry. Deep down, his conscious recognized that this was a very odd situation and he shouldn't be nearly this damn happy.

"_Kill him!"_ screamed the red haired figure. Harry, not knowing her name, only that she was of the Weasly clan, decided to call her 'Bitch.'

"Who you talking to?" asked Harry, faltering. The charm was wearing off, if only slightly.

To the left, the water seemed to explode, a huge figure emerging.

Wrapped in glittering emerald scales, it was 60 feet long, its tail tapering out at the end. Yellow eyes dotted its head, glaring balefully at anything and everything. Pearl white teeth shone inside it's jaw, many inches long. A thin red forked tongue flicked out, determining the location of Harry.

Harry gazed at the creature, something telling him not to look it in the eyes. He marveled at the form, not noticing the first attack.

The tail swept out, slamming into the youth, sending him sliding across the chamber, dipping into the water.

He broke the water, gasping for air. The magical reducing capabilities of Basilisk hide removed the overpowered cheering charm, leaving him with the cold hard facts of the situation. There was a Basilisk. It was mad. It didn't like him. He needed to kill the controller.

Lifting his watch arm, he snapped his fingers, a blue black bolt of electricity shot out, striking the Weasly girl, flinging her backwards. The Basilisk hissed, rearing up. It opened its maw, gathering something. Harry dodged to the left as it launched something from the back of its throat. Thick black venom flew forth, striking the ground where he stood. It splattered against the water, sending a spray of water and venom in a few directions.

"AHHH!" Harry clutched his face, the diluted venom splashed against it.

"W-w-what's the m-m-matter P-P-Potter?" yelled the Weasly girl, slowly getting to her feet. Her limbs were having a hard time responding. Regardless, she got to her feet, madness dancing in her red eyes.

"_Consume him my slave!" _she screamed. "_Make him suffer!"_

Only recognizing the pain on the left side of his face, he cast a numbing charm. Despite the anti magical properties of the venom, he successfully numbed his face, if temporarily. He snapped his fingers, striking Weasly again, sending her crashing to the ground, smelling somewhat of excrement. He grinned, only for a split second. Turning his attention to the giant snake, he cursed.

Diving to the left, he avoided a strike from its massive head.

"_If I asked nicely, would you bloody well stop that?!"_ screamed Harry, not expecting much. To his shock, the snake stopped.

"_You are a speaker too?"_ it asked curiously, as if it did not just mortally wound Harry.

"_I don't know, you're speaking English!" _shouted Harry, the pain starting to return. He could only see out of his right eye. He was not looking forward to meeting with the girls later.

"_No, you are speaking my language. To you, it sounds like English."_ Harry nodded, if briefly.

"_If you would be so kind, that... bitch... over there is just going to cause problems. Could you deal with it?" _asked Harry. The Basilisk nodded, sliding over.

"_Do you want it dead?"_ it asked. Harry frowned, thinking. Weasly bitch sicked a massive ass snake on his ass, tried to kill members of the school... Killed the cat... to be fair, he didn't have any special attatchment to her. He rather disliked her brothers...

"_Go ahead. And then don't come until I call for you," _hissed Harry, stumbling towards the exit. He distantly heard the sounds of bones snapping and flesh tearing, right before the massive door closed, snakes sliding into locking position.

[A.N.] There we go! For the most part, book two is over, rushed, done! Sorry I haven't updated in a very VERY VERY VERY long time, but Life has been busy. Summer school, reunion, football, school, grad year... you know, shit like that. Anywho, hope you enjoyed. Dunno when the next chapter will be up. Once Football season is over I'll be updating stuff a bit more frequently. Have a good Halloween!


	11. Sorry Folks

Hi... Listen, I know, as readers, you found this story to be simply amazing, and I agree! I love it as well! The problem is, I have tried. Tried tried tried tried tried to get something resembling a new chapter out, but I just can't. Nothing speaks to me! Every time I have an idea, I attempt to type it, and it turns out crap! This is my best story if you count reviews! And I'm pissed at myself for not thinking farther ahead. One element I've wanted to include was so radical, I'm going to make it into a oneshot stand alone kinda thing. I'll see where that takes me. So, it is with my deepest regret that I inform you of the Hiatus of this story. I do not know when I will resume it, only that it will be resumed at a later date.

I am sorry, I have let you down as readers.


	12. Hola Amigos!

Hola! My dear readers, this story is going down! But only because I have started a re-write! Look it up! Same name, same author, only different! It's better, in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it!


End file.
